


Incandescence

by Onyx_Stars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Galra Keith (Voltron), Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Illusions, M/M, Mind Melding, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, So much angst, Symptoms of PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, for both Shiro and Keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:10:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyx_Stars/pseuds/Onyx_Stars
Summary: By the time the team gets Keith back, he has been a captive of the Galra for over two months. Or at least they hope it's Keith -– not just a furry, purple monster who tried to kill their leader.{Divergent after season 1, when the idea of Galra Keith was nothing but a wild conspiracy theory}





	1. Horns Like the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to call this "literal proof I shouldn't start writing fanfiction at 6am". But apparently I haven't had enough Klance angst with Galra Keith yet, so here we go. Never mind that I should actually be learning or working on other fics.
> 
> Eternal love to my dear friend [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) for beta reading this and also encouraging me to write this in the first place <3
> 
> Chapter title inspired by Horns by Bryce Fox, which doesn't fit the mood of the chapter at all, but it works with the chapter, so.

It had been 68 days. 

A lot could happen in that time. But there was still hope. 

At least that was what Lance kept telling himself as he shot another Galra soldier drone that had been aiming for Hunk. 

"If he's here, he should be held down there," Pidge yelled, pointing at an aisle towards their right before ducking from a drone's attack. 

Lance pressed his lips together and nodded, not really caring if anyone saw the small gesture. They had been swarmed by drones ever since boarding the Galra cruiser, but there was no way they would be giving up now. 

They were so close. They had to be. 

Any longer than this and they really would have to give up hope. 

Lance pushed forward, shooting two more attackers before turning around at a crunching noise behind him, only to see Shiro's cybernetic arm pushed through another drone's chest, small sparks flickering on the metal. If not for his leader stepping in, that drone would have definitely shot him, Lance realized with a sinking feeling. 

"Don't forget to check your back," Shiro reminded him, worry clear in his voice. "We don't need to lose anyone else." 

Lance tensed. "We haven't lost anyone," he hissed, moving forward again with Shiro at his back, giving their little group cover. "That's why we're here, isn't it?" 

"That's why we're here," Shiro confirmed, but Lance could hear the doubt in his voice. 

They all had their doubts, but they couldn't give up. 

They had to keep hoping that even now, more than two months after being taken by the Galra, Keith was still alive. 

That hopefully, he would be here, so that they could finally take him back with them. Just the thought that Keith might not be fine, might be injured or even worse, _dead_ , filled Lance's stomach with cold dread. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Shiro's expression, looking even more concerned than he himself felt. Shiro had taken the news the worst when Keith had been captured, out on what was supposed to be a simple intel gathering mission, without his lion or even his bayard. Hunk had been with him, but after Hunk getting knocked out, Keith had apparently hidden him somehow, because the yellow paladin had come to with Keith gone, but able to make his way back to castle and report. 

So maybe Hunk was taking this just as bad as Shiro, feeling guilty for letting Keith be taken when he had been there. 

Or maybe Pidge was the most upset about Keith's caputre, knowing her father and brother were captives of the Galra as well. Only for way longer than 68 days. 

Bottom of the line was, there was really no reason for _Lance_ to feel so worried, gut tight with fear and concern, worried what had become of the red paladin and anxious enough that he'd been counting the days. 

But it didn't matter. It wouldn't, because there was the door right ahead, Pidge yelling from the side that this was where they needed to go. Hunk's heavy cannon was blasting it open for them to step through, and they would take Keith and go back to the castle and be happy. 

Lance knew that was probably too nice a scenario to actually happen, but so long as this ended with them getting Keith back, he didn't care about any additional complications. Or so he thought. 

There had been a lot of strange things happening in his life ever since he began piloting a giant robotic lion through space, but Lance doubted anything could have prepared him for what he saw when he stepped through the door. He felt the others stopping behind him as well, likely just as shocked as he was. 

He'd been preparing himself to find Keith chained up, or maybe in a cell. Most likely injured. Looking worse for wear. On his more pessimistic days, Lance had even imagined getting Keith back with a limb or two less, like Shiro had lost his arm. 

There had been nightmares about finding nothing but Keith's lifeless body. 

What he saw instead, was a Galra. It was in the middle of the room, teeth bared in an ugly snarl as it pushed another Galra to the ground, sharp claws tearing out the other's throat, sending blood and chunks of flesh splattering over the ground. There were other torn up corpses all over the room, likely killed the same way by the remaining Galra, as its purple fur was darkened by blood. 

Some distant part of Lance's mind registered _angry, blood-thirsty Galra_ and got him to raise his blaster with trembling hands. Lance couldn't bring himself to shoot, however, even as the Galra got up from its last victim, settling its eerie yellow eyes on them. 

There was no denying it. The Galra looked like Keith. 

A bit more purple, with huge bat ears and yellow eyes and dripping with blood, but its features were _Keith's_. 

"No way," Lance whispered voicelessly, vaguely aware of Shiro powering up his arm next to him, but not attacking either. 

None of them were moving. Neither was the Galra. 

None of them knew what to _do_. 

Lance wasn't actually sure how long he could take this, looking at this Galra wearing their lost friend's face, because his blood was definitely turning to ice and his hands were trembling so badly that he might drop his blaster at any moment. 

There was no way that this was Keith. There was no way Keith was a _Galra_. No way Keith would kill so many with his bare hands – _claws_ – like that, like an animal, even more feral than any of the other Galra they had encountered before. 

But this was the ship Keith should be held on, and this was the room Pidge had said was equipped to handle a high-risk prisoner. 

And it had been 68 days and they needed to _find_ Keith. 

Lance couldn't tell how long the staring had been going on between them and the Galra, but they couldn't keep this silent showdown up for much longer. They had to leave soon, before they got overwhelmed by their enemies, and he could already hear the trampling of dozens of feet, coming closer. 

Then Hunk stepped forward. The Galra bared its teeth. _Fangs_ , Lance could see, even from a distance, and they fit in with the purple fur, but clashed so harshly with Keith's face. 

Hunk stopped and raised his hands, reassuringly. "Keith?" He called out. "Is– Is that you?" 

The Galra's ears flickered, but it didn't react in any other way. Just gave them that same unnerving stare with its creepy yellow eyes. 

"Please," Hunk tried, "Keith. If that is you, just say something to let us know, and then we'll get out of here–" 

The Galra let out a terrible sound, a mixture between a growl and a screech, and then everything happened at once. 

The door at the side of the room burst open, soldier drones flooding inside and shooting, and the Galra hurled itself forward to attack, its sharp claws still faintly red and shining wetly. 

That small bit of hope Lance had been holding on to for the past 68 days shattered in his chest as the Galra with Keith's face ran right past the drones, ignoring them entirely in favor of swinging its claws at Hunk's throat with a snarl, purple face twisted in fury. 

Somehow Lance's body remembered all his training, ducking and shooting back at the drones attacking them, but it was hard to do with the Galra just a few steps away, tearing gashes into the arm Hunk raised in defense to keep the creature from taking his head off. 

Shiro was moving and attacking the Galra with his arm that was much better equipped for close range fighting than Hunk's heavy blaster, and Hunk in return began firing at the drones, helping Lance with taking all of them down. 

It was unwise to get distracted during a fight like this, but Lance was painfully aware of the blood-curdling hissing noises right behind him, the scraping sound of claws hitting Shiro's metal arm. 

He whipped around as he heard Shiro's pained groan, just in time to see the black paladin fall to the ground, a set of deep slashes on his chest. Just a few inches higher and it would have been his throat. 

This Galra was out to kill, without a doubt. And yet, Lance couldn't _move_ , couldn't bring himself to aim his weapon and blast the damn thing. 

It looked like Keith. Why did it look like Keith? Why would Keith ever– 

Lance stood, frozen to the spot, as Hunk took out drones on his one side, and Shiro tried to regain his footing on the other. But there was something wrong, something wide and scared in Shiro's eyes, like he wasn't all there, like he was seeing things that happened long ago, and Lance tried to be understanding of Shiro's lingering issues with Galra but of all the times to have flashbacks this was definitely the worst– 

Shiro wasn't moving and the Galra was barging forward, claws curled to rip out Shiro's throat like it had done to the other Galra, and Lance couldn't bring himself to _do anything_. 

The Galra howled in pain as Pidge's weapon dug into its side, crumpling to the ground a moment later, unconscious. 

Lance finally remembered how to breathe. 

"We need to get out of here, before even more enemies show up," Pidge called, loud enough that Shiro blinked and finally reacted. 

"What about–" Hunk gestured towards the Galra's limp body, not finishing the question. 

There was an elephant in the room, and it was furry, purple, and had just tried to kill their leader. 

At the moment, out cold, the Galra didn't look so dangerous anymore. No yellow eyes, no fangs, no anger. It looked like Keith, if someone put huge bat ears on his head and tinted his entire body purple. But it had attacked them. It had tried to _kill_ Shiro. 

"We don't even know if this actually _is_ Keith," Pidge said out loud what all of them were thinking. "Maybe it's just a Galra lookalike." 

"But what if it's _him_?" Lance protested immediately, heart clenching painfully. If Keith had tried to kill Shiro, that was bad, but if this wasn't him, that meant they still hadn't even _found_ Keith and no idea where he _was_ – 

"We're taking him with us," Shiro decided, voice steady and loud and calm, considering the Galra had almost killed him just a moment ago. "We should be able to find out if it's Keith at the Castle of Lions, and if it's not him, we can still decide what to do." 

Everyone nodded, and Hunk moved to pick up the Galra. Lance still felt shaky, dread gnawing at him as they fought their way back out. 

He didn't know what would be worse; finding out that this was Keith – a Galra who had tried to kill Shiro – or that Keith was still out there, captive and all alone. 

 

***** 

 

With the blue glow of the healing pod, Lance could almost tell himself that Keith wasn't actually purple. Just– just some other color that made him look a deep lilac instead of one of the usual _human_ colors. Without the scraps of what seemed to be the standard Galra prisoner garb and instead wearing one of the healing suits, the similarity to Keith was even more uncanny. That was, as long as one was willing to ignore the huge bat ears, and the metal collar around the Galra's throat. They had tried taking it off, but it seemed to be infused with some sort of magic, which had so far made that impossible. 

Coran and Allura had taken the news of them returning with a Galra considerably well, given the circumstances. As in, it had only taken a very short discussion to get them to agree to take the Galra on board for now, instead of a longer one. It had probably helped that the Galra looked like Keith, and that it hadn't tried to kill them due to being unconscious. 

Coran's scan of the Galra, however, had been inconclusive. "This might probably be Keith," Coran had said. "A lot of the DNA is the same. But given that Keith was human and this is a Galra, a lot of it is different as well. There's just no telling for sure, with something like this." 

It had not been the answer Lance had wanted to hear. Lance didn't know _what_ answer he'd wanted to hear. 

He just wanted Keith back. 

He missed their rivalry, their one-upmanship and their bickering. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Rescuing Keith wasn't supposed to end with them dragging a Galra back to the castle that had tried to kill them. 

Unsure what to do next, they had put the Galra into a healing pod, which gave them about two hours as the pod healed the damage Pidge's bayard had done, as well as a few scratches the Galra had probably gotten fighting the other Galra on the ship. The lack of other damage was fairly suspicious, if they wanted to believe this was Keith. There was no reason why the Galra wouldn't have harmed the red paladin. But then again, maybe they had just healed him as well? There were lots of explanations, really. Lots of reasons why maybe this was Keith, and attacking them had all just been some big misunderstanding they would laugh about one day. 

Shiro had left the room first, expression pinched and tight and looking more upset than Lance had ever seen him. This whole situation was even worse than the mute panic that had settled over them when Keith had been captured two months ago, because back then they had least known what to do. 

Now they didn't even know if this was actually Keith. 

The others had left soon after, and Lance had volunteered to stay and watch the pod. If this wasn't Keith, they couldn't let a murderous Galra run free on the ship. Not that it mattered much if Keith _was_ the murderous Galra, a bitter voice whispered in Lance's head. 

They had agreed to keep it – or rather _him_ , if this was actually Keith – on the ship for now. Remodeling a room as cell apparently wasn't all that much work, and they'd even be able to turn one wall see-through to talk to... Maybe-Keith. 

Lance heard the door behind him open, the rest of the team entering the room. They were right on time. The healing pod would open in just about a minute. 

As advanced as Altean healing technology apparently was, the pods weren't equipped to immediately sedate people after healing them, something they had all agreed was a necessary precaution to move maybe Keith, maybe Keith's-Evil-Galra-Twin to the prepared cell. 

Allura was ready with the sedative, contained in a fancy looking contraption that reminded Lance of hyposprays from Star Trek, and Shiro had his arm glowing and ready in case the Galra tried to attack again. The rest of them had their bayards out, forming a semicircle around the front of the pod. 

"He should be disoriented right after waking up," Allura reminded them. They had all been in a healing pod, so they knew that bit, but Allura's explanation still helped them calm down. There was a plan for what was going to happen next. No need to worry. "There shouldn't be any trouble administering the sedative and then getting him to the ce–" 

Allura broke off as the blue cover of the pod began to disintegrate. The Galra's eyes stayed closed as it – _he_ , Lance reminded himself – swayed on the spot for a moment, then fell forward. 

Without any prompting, Hunk moved forward to catch the Galra before he fell flat on his face, but Shiro's cybernetic arm shot out, stopping the yellow paladin. 

"Wait," Shiro called in warning, just as the Galra's hands shot forward to catch himself in a crouch, immediately pushing up and jumping forward in an attack. An attack that Shiro wasn't prepared to counter, as he had stopped Hunk from getting closer and probably getting mauled by that thing. 

Lance fired a blast at the Galra before he could attack Shiro, which threw him off before he turned on Lance. Lance was barely able to block the swipe at his chest in time, too distracted by the Galra's face, a twisted expression of rage in his yellow eyes, and yet still carrying traces of Keith in his features. 

Unable to do more than block the Galra's attacks, it only took a few moments until the Galra gained the upper hand, being much stronger than Keith, or any other human, had been. The Galra got close to gauging one of Lance's eyes out before Shiro managed to grab him, holding him still long enough for Allura to push the hypospray to his shoulder and administer the sedative. 

The Galra struggled for a few more moments before his head dropped forward, eyes slipping closed and a weak hiss dying on his lips. 

Lance felt about ready to pass out along with him. He sucked in a deep, shaking breath, but that didn't help the tight feeling in his chest. This was _wrong_. 

How could this actually be Keith? What if it wasn't? What if they needed to head out there again, find the _real_ Keith who – in a perfect-case scenario – was not a Galra or trying to kill them? 

"I'll bring him to the cell," Hunk muttered, taking the Galra's limp body from Shiro who looked as pale and shaken as Lance himself felt. 

Lance was quiet as he watched them leave, eyes glued to the Galra's face. When he was awake, the Galra seemed dead set on attacking, even killing them, filled with more anger and aggression than any of the other Galra they had encountered. 

But passed out like this, the Galra looked almost peaceful. Almost like Keith. 

Almost enough for Lance to tell himself that this was actually their lost friend. 

 

***** 

 

 **{{{**

Everything hurt. 

Like, literally _everything_. Even his eyebrows. 

Still, Keith forced himself to open his eyes with a small groan. What he saw made him wish he'd kept them close. Another moment of sweet oblivion would have been nicer than this. He moved slightly, feeling chains digging into his skin as he glared at the person in front of him. 

"Whatever you want, you can fuck right off," he growled, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach, laced with just a hint of fear. 

He was stupid to let himself be captured, but at least he had managed to lure them away from Hunk. 

"My my. The old paladins were not this rude," Zarkon's witch sneered in front of him. Keith was sure he'd heard her name somewhere, but he was struggling to remember it. Hogarth? Haggis? No, Haggar. "But I guess we can teach you some manners while we are here. I'm guessing you're not willing to give up any information on your futile little rebel group yet." 

Keith narrowed his eyes. "I will never." 

"Yes, I thought you'd say something like that. Such a stubborn one," Haggar spoke with a nod, a smile stretching over her face that had Keith's stomach clenching with something cold and unsettling. "We will see how long you stand by that. I would be surprised if you were the first to resist my methods." 

"First time for everything," Keith growled challengingly, glad that his voice didn't betray the dread settling in his belly. 

Hunk had gotten away, he reminded himself. Without someone else here to threaten, they couldn't make him tell them anything. Hunk would get the team, and they would come and get him. He'd be out of here in a few days, tops. 

He could hold on for that long. 

**}}}**


	2. Wait for them to ask you who you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Galra apparently had only two emotional states: anger, as well as complete and utter apathy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"All my friends are heathens, take it slow / Wait for them to ask you who you know / Please don't make any sudden moves / You don't know the half of the abuse."_
> 
>  
> 
> 'Heathens' by Twenty One Pilots (as I am too uncreative to come up with my own titles once more)
> 
> A huge thank you to [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) for being my beta again <3

At some point during Lance's time in junior high school, he'd had a biology teacher believing they would learn better from experimenting for themselves rather than from just reading a book. So each of them had gotten a small plant, and their job had been to find out what plants need through trial and error. Needless to say, Lance had killed the poor thing in a week flat by watering it with nothing but coke, but that wasn't the point.

The point was, dealing with the Galra who might or might not be Keith was actually a lot like experimenting. Not that Lance could draw many conclusions from what he observed, but still.

First of all, the Galra apparently had only two emotional states; anger, as observed when he was trying to kill them and then again later, when he'd woken up in the cell and screeched and scratched for about an hour before giving up. What followed then was the second state: complete and utter apathy.

It wasn't that the Galra couldn't see them – the entire wall facing the hallway was see-through. Unbreakable and just tinted enough that it was clear _something_ was there, keeping the Galra locked in, but there was still no way the Galra didn't notice Lance standing right in front of the cell. The purple alien just acted that way for hours on end, most likely to spite Lance.

There was no other explanation for it, really, since there wasn't much the Galra could do inside the cell, either. There was a mattress, a pillow, and a blanket. A small door connected it to an adjacent bathroom where no one could look inside, but they had told the Galra that if he stayed in there for more than an hour or used it as an opportunity to try something nasty, privileges like that would be lost.

The Galra had stuck to that agreement for the past three days that he'd been on the ship now, so Lance was assuming that he understood them. All in all, the Galra actually seemed remarkably intelligent once it was no longer trying to kill them. He didn't really react or answer to anything they said, but his large ears twitched from time to time when someone was talking to him.

Lance was counting that as a point in favor of this actually being Keith, but the others were so far failing to share his optimism.

"As long as it doesn't _say_ anything, we can't just assume that this is Keith and be done with it," Pidge had said before shuffling off, probably looking for more Galra ships where Keith might be hidden away.

Lance didn't like the idea of accidentally mistaking a hostile Galra for actual Keith, so despite his optimism that this was actually their friend, he wasn't too upset that Pidge kept looking into things.

Shiro, however, was an entirely different matter. Lance knew that he could be insensitive at times, but in this case, he really felt like going up to their leader and telling him not to be such a wuss about things. Sure, Shiro had issues with facing Galra after a whole year in captivity. And sure, having to see this weird mix of blood-thirsty Galra and their friend Keith had to be freaky. But it was freaky for Lance, too, and Lance tried his best to interact with the Galra. Not to mention that if this was Keith, he was way more likely to react to Shiro than Lance.

So Shiro stepping up and trying to talk to Maybe-Keith would be really fucking helpful, seeing as Lance had failed so far.

The only people the Galra had vaguely reacted to were Coran and Allura. None of them were really sure why, but whenever the Alteans showed up at the cell, the Galra's ears all but plastered themselves against his head and he began glaring at them. Nothing else. Just silent, tense glaring. Lance had put that down as inconclusive on his list of 'Pros and Cons for this actually being Keith and not an evil Galra twin'.

With Pidge and Shiro refusing to interact with the Galra, and Coran and Allura getting that kind of reaction, that only left Hunk and Lance for all of the fun duties. Bringing the Galra food goo, bringing the Galra the Altean equivalent of soda, bringing the Galra new clothes and towels, taking all of that away once it wasn't needed at more, staring at the Galra and trying to talk to him while he ignored them, that kind of stuff.

The Galra hadn't tried to slash off any limbs yet whenever they opened the about book-sized slit in the wall for their deliveries, and that was going down as a clear Pro on Lance's list, along with "seems to understand what we're saying, even if he's totally ignoring us" and "looks like Keith, including the stupid mullet".

Those pros were only slightly outweighed by the cons:

  * Actually a Galra
  * Tried to kill Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, Me
  * Doesn't talk, not sure if he can't or is just being an asshole about it
  * Random bouts of rage and trying to either scratch through the invisible wall or murder us, not sure yet



So if Lance was allowed to be optimistic here, and he totally was, things didn't look _that_ bad on the 'This is Keith' front.

And in the spirit of experimentation, he and Hunk spent countless hours in front of the cell. The wall was protruding a bit on both sides of the cell, so there was a nice little niche to sit down in between wall and high-tech, super safe space glass keeping the Galra trapped.

Lance's ass always hurt after sitting there for more than an hour or two, but that was why he had Hunk as back-up, after all. Their attempts at talking to the Galra had failed so far, but Lance was sure that they would succeed eventually. Or maybe they would finally find a pattern as to what made the Galra sit there in cold indifference, and what made him scratch at the glass as if he wanted to jump straight through and take Lance's head off.

"Hey," Lance greeted as he approached the cell. Hunk pushed off from the wall he'd been leaning against, opposite from the space glass, and shrugged helplessly.

"He's not doing anything today, either. Just sitting there," the yellow paladin muttered, gesturing towards the Galra who was curled up in his usual spot, his back against the left wall of the cell, legs pulled up against his chest and arms wrapped around himself, forming a small ball with his chin resting on his knees. As always, Lance couldn't tell what exactly the Galra was looking at, since the creepy yellow eyes were lacking any kind of pupil or iris; but most likely he was looking straight ahead, glaring at the opposite wall of the cell as if it had personally wronged him somehow.

"It's only day four. He's been through a lot– if it's him," Lance answered, trying to smile.

Hunk nodded, looking a bit more hopeless every day now, and left. The Galra gave no indication whether he had noticed any of their exchange or not. He just sat there.

He was always just sitting there when Hunk left. Or when no one was around. As Lance settled down into his usual niche, looking across the cell at the curled up Galra, he wondered if the Galra's ass didn't hurt from holding that position for so long. It would explain the slightly pinched expression he always wore.

"So," Lance started off once he was sitting comfortably. "How are you today?"

No reaction. Nothing new there.

Lance sighed. "You know you're making this unnecessarily difficult, right? If you could just like, _nod_ or something, we could confirm if you're Keith and you could get out of that sad little cell. Enjoy your gross space goo outside, along with the rest of us."

The Galra stared straight ahead, completely unmoving. Or maybe he had blinked. Lance wasn't sure.

Lance pulled out a small stack of papers, going over the list and then looking over the 'Things that made him less indifferent, but more murderous' sheet. He had begun the lists after the first day, trying to get behind this.

Keith had been gone for two months, and none of them knew what had happened to their friend during that time. If this was actually him, then understanding what made him react would be an important clue.

At this point, Lance was also pretty sure that he had an easier time getting the Galra angry than Hunk did, and if that was true, he could put it down as a pro on the 'Pros and Cons for this actually being Keith and not an evil Galra twin' list. Keith had always gotten angry at Lance pretty quickly. Just without the whole attempted murder thing to it.

Lance kind of missed that.

"Okay then," Lance hummed to himself, going over the things that had made Maybe-Keith get up in sudden murderous rage before. Unfortunately, most of them had seemed to lose their effect after being mentioned a few times.

"Tell me, are you Keith?" Lance started off, looking up from his sheet. The Galra gave no indication that he had even heard him. "Yeah, thought so," Lance muttered with a sour expression. "Are you going to tell me why you look like a Galra?"

No reaction, again. And so it went on. All of the things that had the Galra furious in the beginning, now didn't even get Lance an ear twitch anymore.

"Tell me something to let me know you're actually Keith?"

"Okay, fine, you don't wanna' talk. Do you want to draw it down?"

"Are you going to talk to me about Shiro? We all know that if you're Keith, you care about Shiro. Come on."

"Talk to me about the lions?"

"Keith, come on, man, answer me. If I have to conclude that you're not Keith, we'll have to call you something else. Something awful. Like Rupert. Or Marvin. Marvin-Rupert." No, that was not on Lance's list, but he was running out of patience. Who would have thought that talking to Keith – Maybe-Keith – could get even more annoying if the other wasn't answering.

"You're obviously being a difficult asshole right now. Just like before. I don't know why we're even questioning whether it's you, it's fucking obvious! What about Pidge? You glared at her the one time she showed up here."

"Tell me why you won't talk to me? Yes, I know that's a stupid request. You could say something mean and snotty about my intelligence for that. Come on, man."

"Are you going to tell me why you attacked us when we found you? There were lots of those drones there. You went right past them, I know you must have had a reason."

"Keith. Maybe-Keith. Marvin-Rupert. Please?"

"God, I fucking hate this! Why won't you answer me? If you would just answer my fucking questions, we could finally let you out of there and be done with it!" Lance called out in frustration, banging his hand against the space glass. He blinked in surprise when he saw that at his last question, the Galra's ears had perked up, a scowl on his face. More of a scowl than before, anyway.

Feeling more hopeful now, Lance shuffled forward. "See, I knew you could hear me. You understand everything I'm saying. Come on, Maybe-Keith. Just answer a question or two and we'll be done with this."

The Galra's eyes narrowed further.

"Just a bit of nodding and shaking your head no, and you can come out," Lance went on, his heart beating away faster in his chest as the Galra slowly leant forward, getting out of his curled up position for what was likely the first time this day.

"It'll be easy. Just one or two," Lance said softly, watching in fascination how the Galra's ears twitched with– something. "Then you can come out and be with us. We all miss you," he tacked on for good measure. Maybe if this was Keith, it would help.

The next instant, there were sharp claws clashing against the space glass, right above Lance's throat, the horrendous screeching sound of it only overpowered by the furious snarl of the Galra himself. Lance jumped backwards in surprise – not fear, definitely not fear, nu-uh – landing on his ass.

The Galra growled loudly, scratching against the space glass a few more times before he gave up, whipping around, and then sitting down against the back wall of the room in his usual curl, glowering at Lance with venom in his yellow eyes.

Lance forced a deep breath into his lungs. He was just surprised, it was fine. This had happened the past three days as well, it was actually an improvement that this was only the first time today. Only one flare of anger, that was progress. And in due time, he would figure out just what it was that set the Galra off.

"… Wait a moment," Lance mumbled to himself. "This isn't really about the questions I'm asking you, is it? You just hate that I'm _asking_ you things." He looked up at the Galra as if for confirmation. The Galra hissed at him, as he usually did when Lance got him angry.

Lance got up and began picking up his scattered sheets, nodding to himself. "Yeah, that makes sense. We actually should have thought of this before. I mean, I'm sure the Galra – the other Galra, as a group that doesn't include you – were asking you questions. Interrogating you. Assuming that you're actually Keith."

The Galra just glared at him silently. Lance sighed, picking up the last sheet.

"I just don't understand why you won't tell us what happened? We're not Galra. We're your friends. You can tell us everything, that's how this team–"

Lance didn't get to finish his sentence as the Galra threw himself against the space glass with another furious howl, causing Lance to scramble black and drop his papers once more.

Okay, fine. So maybe no progress yet.

 

*****

 

Getting Maybe-Keith to attack the space glass like a rabid animal wasn't actually his goal, so after his revelation Lance changed strategies.

"He hates me asking him things, so I thought that I would just talk to him from now on. Tell him about what has happened, planets we visited, that kind of stuff," Lance announced his plan proudly to Hunk over their lunch ration of space goo.

Hunk had the audacity to grace his genius plan with nothing but a shrug. "Yeah? I mean, that's what I've been doing. And he only got mad at me once," the yellow paladin pointed out, failing to be appropriately impressed.

Lance pursed his lips in disappointment. "Way to ruin my mood, man. I'm telling you, I'm on to something here. And if this is actually Keith, he is _bound_ to still get angry at me more often than at you."

" _If_ it's even him," Pidge muttered next to them, frowning slightly. "I think I saw a cartoon episode like this once. Where one of them gets turned into an animal, and then they confuse him with an actual animal that they take with them. And later they wonder why turning him back won't work." Pidge gave Lance a stern look. "Turning that Galra back into Keith won't work if it's actually just a Galra."

Lance threw his arms up in exasperation. "What is it with you refusing to be optimistic? Do you actually want Keith to still be a prisoner of the Galra instead of here with us?"

"Here with us, he's still a prisoner," Hunk muttered dejectedly. "And we can't leave him in that tiny room forever, Keith or not, or he really will lose it."

"He won't have to stay in there much longer, because I'm on to something here and he's going to be perfectly civil in a bit," Lance argued, stabbing his spork into his goo angrily.

"And then it turns out he's a Galra spy and he murders all of us in our sleep," Pidge muttered dryly.

Before Lance could lay out to her how he had a _list_ – and odds were actually tied at 4:4, now that Lance had added 'interrogation trauma' to the pros – they got cut off by the alarm blaring through the castle.

"Paladins! We're under attack. There are two Galra battle ships headed our way," Allura's voice boomed over the speakers, putting an end to their conversation.

"Why do they have to attack during lunch time?" Hunk sighed sadly as they all got up to ready themselves for the fight.

 

*****

 

Needless to say, they won the day, defeated the Galra, and so on. Nothing out of the ordinary. Lance was actually in a good mood, left-over adrenaline still coursing through his body as he sank down on the couch, sprawling out next to Hunk to celebrate their victory.

It was only when he got up half an hour later that Shiro, who had been quietly talking to Pidge for the past few minutes, stopped him with a grave "Lance, wait" and a serious expression on his face.

"What?" Lance asked. He couldn't recall anything happening during their fight that would justify Shiro looking that grim. They had done just _fine_.

Shiro sighed. "We all know you're hoping that who we found was Keith–", he began, and Lance felt himself tense up, seeing Hunk reacting similarly behind Shiro.

"I know it might not be him," Lance muttered sullenly, "we're all aware of that. Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Because," Pidge spoke up, looking tense, "we're in the middle of deep space. It's very unlikely to meet any ship out here, much less a Galra ship, much less two Galra battle ships."

"We think the Galra we have with us may have contacted them and given away our position," Shiro finished, brows furrowed with worry. "We know that might not be easy to acce–"

"You can stop it with all that 'we' stuff," Lance pressed out. He felt his hands clenching into fists and made a conscious effort to unclench them again. "I _know_ that Galra might not actually be Keith. I know, okay? But what if he is? If we treat him like he isn't, like he's just a Galra imprisoned by us, he's probably never going to remember. We just need to– have a little faith in him, is all I'm saying. And if it turns out this is not Keith, we can still drop him off somewhere. But we have to _try_."

"I know that, Lance. Believe me, no one wants Keith back more than I do," Shiro answered, in that stupid reassuring tone that automatically had Lance relaxing a little. "But we also need to be on guard in case this isn't Keith."

"We will be," Hunk piped in, getting up and looking a all of them. "I mean, we beat the Galra just fine right now, didn't we? We can do it again. We have to fight them, anyway. And if this is Keith, then we _will_ get through to him. I know it."

Lance felt a grateful smile spreading over his face. It was good to know that Hunk wasn't willing to give up yet, either.

Their emotional moment was shattered by a loud clattering noise, all their heads snapping around to look at Coran, holding two mops in his hands with another one lying on the ground in front of him.

"I'm sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting? I know you must all be tired after battle, but it would be much appreciated if I could get some help cleaning up the castle." Coran's chipper voice lifted the previously serious atmosphere, and Lance felt himself nodding.

"Sure, I'll help you out," he offered.

"Thank you, Lance! Your help is more than welcome. Keeping the entire castle clean all on my own really is a bit much. We used to have dozens of people responsible for cleaning. But of course, back then there were more people living in the castle as well. Up to two hundred at a time, can you believe it? It was quite chaotic at times, let me tell you, …"

As Coran kept talking about the past, Lance nodded along politely, swiping the mop over the floor. He kept cleaning the castle for the rest of the day, until everything was squeaky-clean.

He told himself it was not so he could avoid going to the Galra's cell again.

 

*****

 

"So, if you actually were an evil Galra imposter instead of Keith, you would totally tell me, right?" Lance asked. "And if you were secretly letting the other Galra know our position, you would tell me about that, too, right?"

The Galra didn't even look at him, much less answer.

Same as always, then. Well, on the bright side the Galra didn't seem annoyed that Lance hadn't come over again the day before. That was something. Maybe.

Lance sighed, slumping over in his niche and leaning his head against the space glass. "You know, since you get upset so easily when I try to ask you questions, I think it's time to try something new. Any objections? No? Yeah, I didn't think so."

Lance gave the Galra a long look, but just as he'd expected, the Galra didn't even look at him. After five days, Lance didn't even feel discouraged anymore. It was just how things were now.

"Anyway, Shiro says I'm not allowed to talk about anything happening right now, so I don't hand you any important information if you're actually just a Galra spy," Lance went on, "so we'll stick to all the things you've missed while you were gone. And not to boast, but you missed my probably most amazing fight yet.

There was this huge monster thing, kind of like a horse, but upside down, and its legs were like– I don't even know. Wings, maybe? And it was spewing this freaky green acid, melting like half the city that we were supposed to protect. But then, being the genius that I am, I figured out that freezing the acid made it absolutely harmless. And this huge monster horse itself? Actually didn't like the cold either. In the end Hunk took it down, but it totally never would have happened without me.

And then the people there– I would tell you what they're called, but they were some kind of tech-enhanced species communicating only with code, so I can't pronounce it at all. Pidge had to do all the communicating and calming them down when they were freaking out about the giant acid horse. Anyway, after we defeated the monster, they threw us this victory party, but not in a party way. It was all quiet and without food. I think Hunk was actually about to cry. And Pidge, too, but from joy. I'm actually amazed we could get her to leave with us again, instead of her staying on that tech planet forever.

But you know, their mad technology was actually why we went there in the first place. Pidge somehow used that to boost up her hacking skills, and that was what we used to find you in the end. But first, we had to actually get onto one of the main Galra ships, and that was a disaster. We sent in Allura with her shape-shifting skills to blend in, but turns out the base had _just_ been overtaken by a group of freedom fighters, so she got boxed in with all the _actual_ Galra as a prisoner. Shiro had one hell of a time convincing them that Allura was on our side. Made me glad I'm not leader."

Lance went on like that, telling the story of how they had freed Allura eventually, then a different one about how Pidge had been working on more modifications for her lion. Which Lance could not mention, since they were top secret, and also since Pidge refused to tell him about them.

He had to change positions twice because of his limbs falling asleep, and talked about every story he could think of. Coran's and Hunk's fight over creating a new type of food goo. Shiro catching some sort of space bug that hadn't made him sick, but had caused him to talk with a funny high voice for almost a week. Pidge admitting that it was actually her birthday, and Allura showing up a week later with a fancy dress that had tech and laser guns built into it. Hunk accidentally becoming ruler of a small planet for a day.

What Lance carefully didn't mention were the two weeks immediately after Keith had been captured. How Hunk had been consumed with guilt and actually not eaten for three days straight. How Pidge hadn't slept for more than an hour a night, because she had tried to work out a way to find Keith. How Coran had barely spoken for days. How Shiro had fought the simulator until he'd passed out, only to slip into that 'cold, emotionless leader' more afterwards, because there hadn't been anything he could do. How Allura had somehow kept encouraging them to keep looking, even as the days had stretched into weeks, and had remained the one person steadying all of them as even Shiro fell apart.

Lance didn't talk about any of that, because he doubted Keith would want to hear it. It was in the past now that they had him back – _if_ they had him back – and if Keith was somewhere in that Galra mind, hearing about how badly they had reacted would only make him feel miserable.

Once Lance ran out of things to mention about the last to months, he went over everything Keith had been there for. First finding the blue lion in the desert. Fighting the Galra together. Saving the Balmera. Coming back together after their mishap with the wormhole had spilled them all over the space. _Space_ , ha ha. Same place Lance would have been sucked into back when the castle had been trying to kill them. But he hadn't died in space, because Keith had been there to pull him back into the castle. Which almost made up for when Keith had left Lance waiting for _hours_ before unchaining him from that stupid tree, after Nyma had tricked him.

And then, with his entire backside feeling numb for the third time, Lance couldn't think of anything else to say, except for one thing. He nervously fiddled with his fingers, looking down on his knees. "You know, I'm only going to mention this because these are very special circumstances, and also because I don't think I can get up right now. Both my legs fell asleep. And also it's actually more your memory than mine, since y'know, I actually wasn't kidding when I said I couldn't remember. I was pretty out of it after that explosion, and most of it is a blur.

I don't remember anything like you 'cradling me in your arms' or anything, but after beating Sendak together, I know that we _did_ feel close for a moment. I mean, I was in an awful lot of pain and dizzy and not thinking clearly, but I remember that you were there. And that despite all the pain, I wasn't actually _worried_ , because in that moment I felt like we were a team, and that I was safe, because none of you would let anything happen to me.

Do you remember any of that?" Lance looked over at the Galra, hesitantly.

He wasn't sure what he had expected to see. The Galra was curled up even tighter now, no longer staring straight ahead at the opposite wall, but instead hiding his face behind his knees. His ears were pressed back against his head, as if he wanted to block the world out.

It was hard to say what the Galra was feeling. Upset? Sad? Had he just fallen asleep like that? Lance couldn't tell. But he knew that it was _some_ kind of reaction, and it was neither anger nor apathy.

Talking about everything the team had been through actually made the Galra _react_ in some way. And that, like nothing else, gave Lance hope that this could actually be Keith.

"You know what? I'll stop bothering you for today. I think my throat might actually be sore after all this talking," Lance murmured quietly, awkwardly struggling to get to his feet since his legs did really feel numb after sitting on the ground for so long.

The Galra's ears twitched up, and Lance held his breath until they flattened themselves back down a moment later.

He felt the sudden urge to keep pushing until he had a breakthrough, but didn't give in. Whatever progress this had been, it felt too fragile to risk it now.

Walking past the cell, his gaze stayed glued to the Galra, but the alien didn't move again.

 

*****

 

A few hours later, they got attacked by six Galra ships, coming at them from two different directions.

 

*****

 

**{{{**

Keith woke up to a hissing noise, a stifling warmth prickling through his body.

His mind needed a moment to clear, but realization set in as soon as two pairs of cold metallic hands gripped his arms.

A Galra healing pod – or whatever approximation of Altean healing tech the Galra used.

Keith blinked a few times, steadying himself on his feet as the drones dragged him forward. If he had been aware of his surroundings more quickly after waking up, he maybe could have knocked the drones down and made a run for it. He doubted that he'd have made it out, without plan, without back-up, and it would have lessened his chances of escaping later.

But it would have been fun. Taking out a few of those who held him here. It would have been a break.

Like this, he didn't get a break.

The drones strapped him back down to the metal contraption he had been on before. Keith tried to get out of their grip, but it was no use. They hadn't left him in the pod for long enough to truly regain any kind of strength.

The eerie masked alien that had been... _responsible_ for him for most of his stay floated inside. It looked like the one he had fought for quintessence, back when they had infiltrated the Galra ship months ago; though Keith had no way of telling whether this was the same one or not.

"Second time you had to put me in a healing pod already. You should be more careful," Keith drawled, glad that his voice came out steady. "If you accidentally kill me, I'm sure you'll get in trouble."

The alien didn't pay any attention to his words, black flashes of energy beginning to crackle around it. "Are you going to talk?" it asked, its voice a quiet hiss that somehow _felt_ as if something was cutting into Keith. He knew those crackling flashes of energy were going to feel worse. Way worse. He still remembered the awful feeling of something rupturing inside of him clearly, and while he didn't know what it was, it had apparently been bad enough for them to put him in the healing pod.

Couldn't have their very important prisoner dying after all. It was a small comfort for Keith to know how pissed the Galra would be if they did actually kill him by accident. He was sure that guy who had cut too deeply, burnt away too much, earning Keith his first trip to the healing pod, had gotten in a lot of trouble. Keith couldn't say he pitied him, not when the mere thought of that Galra made his stomach turn and his bones hurt.

But that didn't matter now, he reminded himself. If anything, it had been good preparation for what this guy could do with his magical flashes of energy.

Keith took a steadying breath, clenching his fists tightly enough to feel his nails digging into his palms.

How many days had he been here now? Seven? Ten? Twelve? He couldn't tell. Time measurements from Earth were hard to keep track of in space.

But he knew that his team would come for him.

They would _come_.

He raised his chin in defiance as he released the held breath, glaring right at the alien's creepy mask. "Fuck you," he hissed sharply.

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, right form the beginning, I want to thank everyone who commented on the first chapter. This is what I live for. Thank you so much. And a huge thank you to everyone who leaves kudos, too ;)  
> I love every bit of feedback and knowing that people are reading this. And nothing makes me happier than hearing what you think of the developments =) Is the Galra Keith? Is it his evil Galra twin Marvin-Rupert? Who knows...
> 
> Tbh, this project is already getting way bigger than I had planned. I've started writing out Keith's lost two months and it's already 8k words of suffering. Which you will slowly get to know about.
> 
> In the mean time, all of you will have to share the team's fate: wait and be in the dark about what is going on.
> 
> I hope I'll have the next chapter finished in about a week, so until then have a great time and let me know all your thoughts on this story so far ;)


	3. See me bare my teeth for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, I think we can all agree that something has to be done," Shiro started tensely, looking at everyone gathered in the room. "This has started after we brought the Galra on board, so it's safe to assume this is happening because of him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title's from 'Who are you, really?' by Mikky Ekko, since I'm still really bad at them. But at least I now pick songs that fit the chapter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> The usual big thank you to [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) for beta reading and helping me figure things out =)

They won the fight against the Galra battle ships without anyone getting seriously injured. Lance would totally be celebrating, if it wasn't for the very grim atmosphere in the room as soon as everyone had arrived. 

The two Galra ships that had found them before could have been brushed off as an anomaly, a one-time thing – with a bit of optimism, maybe – but six ships from two different directions couldn't have found them by mere coincidence. 

He knew that. That didn't mean he had to like it, though. 

"So, I think we can all agree that something has to be done," Shiro started tensely, looking at everyone gathered in the room. Which was everyone except the Galra himself. And the mice, probably. "This has started after we brought the Galra on board, so it's safe to assume this is happening because of him." 

"We don't know if he's telling them our position," Hunk threw in. "They might just be tracking him, or something." 

"No one is making any accusations here," Allura reassured him, and Lance felt himself relax as well. Shiro and the others nodded. 

"But we _can_ be sure that it has something to do with the collar," Pidge pointed out. "Whether he's communicating with them or being tracked, the technology for it will be in there. It was suspicious enough that we weren't able to take it off." 

"Right, because of the weird magic stuff in it," Lance added in. "But doesn't that mean that we still can't take it off?" 

"We don't have to," Pidge answered. "Just deactivate whatever is responsible for this. Given enough time, Hunk and I should be able to do that. The _problem_ is that I very much doubt the Galra will let us tinker around at its throat for an hour." 

"We could sedate him again?" Allura suggested. "But we don't know much about Galra physiology, so figuring out the correct dosage for that might be difficult." 

"Using cuffs as well would be the safest way to go, I think. We should have some on board than can withstand the strength of a Galra," Coran offered. 

"I'm not getting near that thing's throat if it's not wearing a muzzle," Pidge muttered. 

Lance gasped, only slightly over-dramatic in his shock. "Pidge! That might be Keith we're talking about here." 

"It tried to kill all of us every time it got a chance so far, and I intend to come out of this with all ten of my fingers still attached," Pidge huffed, giving Lance a cold glare. Lance glared right back. He could admit that Pidge's worries were somewhat justified, but still. 

"It just seems– over the top. Do we really have to knock him out _and_ tie him up?" he muttered unhappily. 

"If we only sedate him, he might wake up sooner than expected. In that case he could seriously injure someone if he isn't restrained in any other way. Better safe than sorry," Shiro pointed out. The unhappy pinched look on his face was at least a small comfort to Lance. 

"Are we sure we should do this at all?" Hunk asked, looking uncomfortable. "Whether it's Keith or not, the Galra seems like he's been through a lot. I don't think he'll react well to us sedating him or cuffing or _muzzling_ him. Especially not if he's really Keith." 

"We can't put it off," Shiro argued, frowning slightly. "I don't like it either, but with that collar active, the Galra can find us anywhere, anytime, and they'll keep sending ships." 

"If we sedate him and all goes well, he won't even notice any of it," Allura pointed out, though she didn't look very optimistic. 

"What if we, like– ask him?" Lance suggested. Five pairs of eyes settled on him. He shifted uncomfortably under all the attention. "I mean, just– maybe if we ask him we'll get some kind of reaction from him? Maybe even an answer?" 

"It can't make things worse," Hunk agreed. "And it's really the least we can do." 

Shiro gave them a thoughtful look, then nodded. "Fine. But no matter how he reacts, you still need to get this done as soon as possible. We can't have the Galra sending even more ships after us the next time. I'm assuming we can leave this to you three, then?" 

Hunk and Lance nodded enthusiastically. Pidge sighed, but then nodded as well. 

As far as plans went, this one seemed pretty solid so far. 

 

***** 

 

They approached the cell in their paladin suits, bayards at their sides, not activated for now. Considering how badly the Galra could react to this, weapons and armor had seemed like necessary precautions. Pidge had a hypospray with sedative from Allura with her, Hunk was carrying the cuffs and an actual muzzle – Lance still couldn't believe they were really considering using it, but he could also understand Pidge's concern about getting her fingers near those sharp teeth, so here they were – and Lance was carrying his fellow paladins' tools for working on the collar. 

The Galra usually did a great job of ignoring them when they came to visit him, but seeing them in armor seemed to set him off, because he got to his feet as soon as they came into sight, hissing at them with narrowed eyes, looking ready for a fight. 

"Hey there, buddy," Lance tried with a smile, leaning forward. "We know this might look bad, but trust me, it's totally not going to be." 

"Lance," Pidge sighed. "We agreed to let Hunk do the talking. Look at it, you already made it more upset." 

"Did not," Lance sniffed, mock-offended, though he couldn't deny that those huge purple ears seemed to be plastered even more tightly against the Galra's head now. 

Hunk stepped past him, placing his hand on the space glass and beginning the carefully crafted speech that would – hopefully – get their intentions across to the Galra without sending him off into a murderous rage. 

"Hey," Hunk started, voice pitched in the most reassuring tone he could manage. "We're sorry about this, but we kind of have to take a look at that collar around your throat. You probably don't like that idea, and we understand, but there's no way around it. We'll really only work on the collar, we promise. And we know you'll probably like this even less, but we're all kinda' worried you'll try to attack us if we get too close, so there have to be– precautions. We can sedate you, then you won't notice a thing. Or you can stay awake, but then there's, uh. Cuffs. And a muzzle. We thought you might want to choose one option here?" 

The Galra glared at them in silence, his ears twitching up and down. 

"He still doesn't talk, why would he start now?" Pidge muttered quietly. 

"Well, he doesn't have to." Lance grabbed the hypospray from her, stepping up to the space glass next to Hunk. "See?" he asked the Galra, holding it up. "You just have to point at one. It's really easy." 

The Galra stayed silent, his yellow eyes fixated on them. 

"We know this has to be a really uncomfortable choice for you," Hunk tried. "We don't like it, either. But it's going to happen, and it's going to happen now, and you can at least choose _how_. So come on. Please?" 

The Galra hissed at them, baring his teeth. 

"Can we just sedate it already? You're obviously only making it more upset," Pidge grumbled behind them. 

Lance glared at her over his shoulder. "Don't talk to Maybe-Keith like that. Or if it's not Keith, Marvin-Rupert. He has feelings!" 

"Yeah, angry and even angrier," Pidge muttered quietly. "Why did you give it a stupid name like that? It's not like we're going to keep it if it's just a Galra." 

Lance had already opened his mouth to retort something well thought-out and very smart, but didn't get that far as claws screeched over the space glass inches from his face, accompanied by a loud growl from the Galra. So instead of his brilliant reply, Lance just squeaked and jumped back. 

"See, now you hurt his feelings! I told you so," he accused. With the lack of iris or pupils in those yellow eyes, it was hard to tell, but he was actually pretty sure that the Galra was glaring at Pidge for her comment. 

"Guys, stop it," Hunk murmured, looking a bit queasy. "This is already bad enough as it is. Don't fight in front of him on top of everything else." 

Lance deflated at that, shooting Hunk a guilty look. "Sorry," he muttered, Pidge doing the same behind them. Hunk gave them a stern nod, then turned back to the Galra. 

"Okay, sorry about that little incident. You still need to choose something, though, because we need to take a look at that collar. Otherwise the other Galra will find us again. You don't want that either, do you?" 

All Hunk got for his friendly little speech was another hiss. 

"Guys, this isn't getting us anywhere," Pidge muttered. "Clearly, the Galra is not going to make a choice here. Just tranq it, Lance." 

"Why me? I spent all week bonding with him, I'm not ruining that now! You can do it," Lance whined pitifully. 

All joking aside, though, he really didn't want to go in there and traumatize Maybe-Keith even further. The Galra was obviously already distrustful of them, and knocking him out against his will surely wouldn't help things along. 

"Then hand it over." Pidge held out her hand. After a short moment of hesitation, Lance did. 

The Galra hissed again, taking a few steps back and flexing his claws. 

Pidge stepped up to the space glass, opened the hatch they usually used to give the Galra his food goo, aimed and shot. 

The small dart – and wow, Lance hadn't know those hyposprays could shoot darts as well, that was a really nifty feature – hit the Galra's upper arm. The Galra pulled the dart back out immediately, but the sedative still seemed to do its job, as the Galra's eyes got droopy moments later. He hissed at them weakly once more, stumbling a few steps back before dropping to his knees. 

For a moment, Lance thought he could see fear behind the Galra's glare, but then those yellow eyes closed and the Galra slumped to the ground completely. 

It felt too quick and easy considering how much time and thought they had put into this operation. Maybe Pidge was right and they had just made things worse by trying to consult the Galra for his opinion – but he still didn't like it. 

"I kind of feel awful," Hunk muttered quietly, and Lance nodded in agreement. 

This didn't feel right. He knew they had to take a look at that collar, they couldn't allow the other Galra to keep finding them. But _this_ Galra was obviously distressed enough already, and would probably distrust them even more after this. 

Not to mention if this was actually Keith. If it was him, then– after two months of torture at the hands of the Galra, broken so completely that he didn't even recognize them anymore– he now had to endure something similar from them. His team. His friends. 

For a short moment, Lance caught himself hoping that this was just some random Galra lookalike instead of Keith. That way, he wouldn't have to feel as bad about this. 

"If you two are done brooding, we should get to it, or this was all for nothing," Pidge pulled him out of his thoughts. 

"Uh, yeah, sure," he murmured sheepishly, watching as Pidge placed her hand on the control panel on the wall next to the cell, and the space glass moved to the side. 

They got to work quickly, rolling the Galra onto his back and placing the cuffs – that were actually more the size of bracers – around the Galra's forearms. 

"Do we really have to _muzzle_ him?" Lance asked, peering down at the unconscious Galra. "I mean, he's not going to _do_ anything any time soon." 

"We don't know how long the sedative will keep him that way," Pidge pointed out, kneeling down next to the Galra, Hunk doing the same on the other side. She pulled down the Galra's chin, revealing two rows of white teeth and four very long and sharp fangs. With one eyebrow raised in challenge, she looked at Lance. "Two of us are going to have our fingers near that, and it's not you, so stop complaining." 

Lance pouted. He felt bad about this – especially as his mind kept bringing up that they had already knocked the Galra out and cuffed him, and this might be _Keith_ – but looking at those teeth, he could understand Pidge's worries. 

So he very hesitantly helped put the muzzle on over that maw, quietly telling himself that this was necessary. Pidge's fingers were important, too. And besides, maybe this was just a very aggressive, random Galra who kept trying to kill them, so he didn't need to feel _that_ bad about it. 

Once the muzzle was on, Lance got to sit aside and feel useless as Pidge and Hunk did their best to figure out the collar. He supposed that couldn't take too long. 

He was wrong. 

"Why are you taking so long?" he whined after half an hour had passed, sprawled out on the floor. "It's a really small collar! And Allura said she couldn't guarantee us more than an hour of time before the Galra might wake up." 

"Shut up, Lance," Pidge grumbled quietly, tinkering around with– _something_ in that collar. 

It had taken them almost ten minutes just to get past the outer hull of the collar and at its insides. Apparently that magic or whatever it was that was infused into it made things a whole lot more complicated. 

All this waiting was getting on his nerves though, and there wasn't much to look at in the room. Since he could look at most of the room's occupants pretty often, Lance used this opportunity to stare at the Galra. 

They were pretty sure that the Galra was sleeping just like them, on the mattress even, but none of them had actually seen him asleep so far. This probably came close. 

To be honest, it was a bit weird. The Galra looked so peaceful, more peaceful than Lance had ever seen _any_ Galra look, face all smooth and relaxed. Lance was kind of tempted to brush his fingers over that purple nose, or over the tips of those huge ears that would twitch from time to time. Actually, he wanted to touch a lot more places – and not in the nsfw kind of way, okay – just to explore. 

The Galra as a species didn't seem to have a lot of similarities beyond being purple and having yellow eyes as well as somewhat spiky ears. This one's ears kind of looked like a bat's, or maybe a cat's, triangular and curving from the side of the Galra's head to the top. They seemed to be covered in fur, but the face looked like smooth skin. It seemed like there were zones of fuzz between the skin and fur areas, like at the temples, but it was surprisingly difficult to tell what was where. Lance was very tempted to touch and figure out the details. 

"I think I found it," Hunk murmured a few minutes later, rousing Lance from wondering if the fur would be as soft as it looked. 

He sat up immediately, pushing his previous thoughts to the back of his mind. "Yeah?" he asked excitedly, watching as Pidge crowded closer to Hunk to get a good look at whatever it was. 

"Yeah," Hunk confirmed, grinning proudly. "I mean, we still don't know much about Galra tech, and everything in here is tiny and seriously advanced and I wouldn't want to touch most of it without learning more first, but this here kinda' looks like a tracking device and a small transmitter for sending out the data. Would explain how they keep finding us. We just need to disable it and we'll be all good." 

"That's great!" Lance was grinning widely, high-fiving Hunk above Pidge's head. "And that means he didn't contact the other Galra on purpose, right?" 

"Might have still known it was there," Pidge muttered darkly, earning herself another glare from Lance. 

"Why are you being such a pessimist?" Lance grumbled crankily, pulling a face. 

"I'm not, I'm just remaining neutral here, Lance," Pidge said, as both she and Hunk fiddled around with the tracker. "This is a Galra, and it tries to kill us every chance it gets. Trusting it really is the last thing we should do." 

"What if it's Keith, though? We have to try and help him," Lance argued. 

Pidge shrugged, looking down at their work. "What if it's not? We need to be careful about this, Lance. Not all of us want to end up handcuffed to trees, or worse." 

"That was _one time_ ," Lance whined holding up one finger and jabbing it forward to make his point. 

"Guys, we've been over this, no more bickering," Hunk reprimanded the two of them, giving them both a disapproving look before turning back to his work on the collar. 

"Pidge started it," Lance pouted. In a very mature way, he might add. 

"Lance is picking fights because he misses bickering with Keith," Pidge replied coldly. 

Lance gasped in shock, but before he could tell Pidge off, Hunk cut them off with another " _Guys_ ". 

And that was when something went horribly wrong. Lance wanted it noted that things went horribly wrong because of something either Hunk or Pidge – and definitely not he himself – did, because suddenly purple flashes began sparking from the collar. The Galra's yellow eyes flew open as he howled in pain– or something along those lines, it came out very muffled from under the muzzle. 

Being the genius that he was, Lance dove forward and pressed the Galra's cuffed forearms down above the alien's head, effectively sparing Hunk and Pidge the fate of being mauled by those claws. 

"What happened?" Lance screeched, as the other two struggled to hold down the Galra and get back to the still sparking collar at the same time. 

"One of us must have triggered some– shock function," Hunk pressed out, trying to get to the writhing Galra's throat. Now Lance was kind of glad Pidge had been so insistent on the muzzle. 

"Then fix it!" Lance yelled, barely able to hold down the Galra's arms. 

"No shit, Sherlock," Pidge hissed at him. 

It was a mess. The Galra was flailing around and making it all but impossible for them to get at his throat, muffled growls coming from under the muzzle. His head was whipping around, at one point settling long enough to glare at Lance, those yellow eyes filled with hatred and _pain_ – and Lance already disliked his part in this, okay, he didn't need that glare on top of it – and then Pidge rammed her bayard into the Galra's side, causing the alien to howl even louder and tense up, then pass out once more. 

As soon as the Galra stopped moving, Lance slumped over, sinking to the ground. 

His heart was beating a mile a minute. This was way too stressful for a simple 'Go deactivate that collar' mission. 

He groaned loudly. "This is awful." 

Hunk and Pidge ignored him in favor of tinkering around with the collar again. The cursed purple flashes stopped a few moments later. After another few minutes, they closed the collar back up, and only then joined Lance in his exhausted slumping over. 

"Well, now he'll _definitely_ hate us," Hunk muttered dejectedly. 

"But you deactivated that tracker thing, right?" Lance asked hopefully, relaxing slightly when his fellow paladins nodded. 

"They can't find us – or well, _this_ Galra – anymore now," Pidge stated and got to taking off the muzzle. Lance and Hunk joined her, and soon they shuffled out of the cell with all their equipment, closing it back up. 

Lance dared a glance back, at the Galra lying on the ground with that cursed collar still around his throat. Right now he just looked like a sleeping, purple version of Keith, but the image of those hateful yellow eyes glaring at him was burned into Lance's memory. 

He sighed, wondering not for the first time when and if and _how_ they could figure out if this was really Keith or not. 

 

***** 

 

In an absolutely expected turn of events, the Galra disliked them even more now. He didn't ignore them anymore when they showed up at his cell, but glared and hissed the entire time until they left. They had to reprogram the space glass – since it apparently was more of a forcefield than a material, how neat was that – to open the hatch on ground level, so they could slide the Galra his food goo inside and then leave, since the Galra refused to eat anything while they were there. 

Pidge still refused to pay the Galra any visits, and Hunk and Lance limited theirs, deciding to give the Galra some space. It was by no means a permanent solution, they'd have to try to talk to the Galra again at some point, find out if this was really Keith or not, but for now this was the best they could do. 

They tried to apologize, of course, but every time they did, it only seemed to make the Galra even more furious. The more heartfelt the apology, the sooner the Galra would try to attack them, throwing himself against the space glass with an angry snarl. 

In short, they had made everything worse, but at least no more Galra battle ships found them in the middle of deep space. 

The shock function of the collar went down as a pro on Lance's 'Pros and Cons for this actually being Keith and not an evil Galra twin' list, since a shock collar gave them reason to believe that this Galra wasn't seen as an ally by the other Galra. Pidge had ruined that short moment of joy by pointing out that that didn't have to mean this was Keith, just that the other Galra didn't like him either, maybe because he was, quote unquote "absolutely feral, he's not even talking, only constantly trying to kill everyone who gets close". 

Lance had left the pro on his list anyway. 

 

***** 

 

About a week after the incident with the collar, they freed a small planet from the Galra. The fight took them pretty much all day, and Hunk had crashed badly, coming out of it with a broken leg, but in the end they had won. 

The ship's night cycle had already begun, and Lance was more than ready to go to bed and sleep for twelve hours or however many ticks that was. He went through his beauty regimen half-asleep – being in space didn't mean he would stop taking care of his perfect good looks – smearing the face mask he'd whipped up with some trial and error over his skin. 

He fell into bed with a deep sigh of relief. Finally, some well-deserved sleep– 

Wait, had anyone fed the Galra today? It was Hunk's turn, but Hunk was in a healing pod. And they had been fighting since the early morning. 

But the Galra was likely asleep already and wouldn't care if he got food goo now or in the morning– 

Lance groaned. No, now that he'd thought of it, he couldn't just ignore the issue. So he forced himself back out of bed, shuffling through the darkened halls of the castle in his lion slippers. He doubted the Galra would care how he was dressed. 

With an extra large portion of food goo, Lance came to the cell, a little surprised when he saw the Galra sitting there in his usual curled up position, but with his head resting on his knees, dozing. As Lance stepped closer, those purple ears twitched, and the Galra opened his eyes. 

The Galra looked at him, then snorted, rolling his eyes with a fond little smile on his purple lips. 

Lance almost dropped the food goo. 

The whole action had maybe taken a second, and then the Galra was back to his usual slightly angry expression, but Lance knew what he had seen. Well, maybe he was not so sure of the eyeroll, that one was more of a vague idea seeing as the Galra lacked pupils, but still. _Still_. 

Lance knew that snort. 

"It really is you, isn't it," he breathed, staring at the Galra – Keith, this was really Keith, wasn't it? – in amazement. 

The Galra looked at him silently. After a few quiet moments, the alien got up, stretched and walked over to the mattress in his cell. Lance remembered that he had a reason for coming here and hurriedly set the food goo down on the ground, sliding it into the cell. 

"No, no no no, wait, I brought you food. I'm sorry we forgot about that. We'll figure something out so that won't happen again," Lance explained quickly, then took a few steps back from the space glass. 

The Galra inspected him critically, then very slowly came closer. He looked at the bowl with goo, then up at Lance, and only then took the bowl and sat down in his usual spot at the left wall of the cell to eat. Lance still had trouble reading the Galra's face and those strange yellow eyes, but for a moment he'd thought the Galra had looked unsure. Unsure that he could have this goo after they had forgotten to bring him something to eat all day? Was that it? 

Now the Galra was eating, spork slowly decimating the goo, and Lance couldn't help but stare. 

"Hey, Keith," he tried. The Galra didn't say anything. One purple ear might have twitched. Lance couldn't say for sure. 

He sighed deeply. He was so _tired_ and the Galra's reaction had only lasted for a second, he was already beginning to doubt if it had really happened. Lance slumped forward, barely stopping himself from leaning his face against the space glass as he remembered that he was still wearing his face mask. 

Wait a moment. 

"Making fun of me? That is what gets you to react after two whole weeks?" he whined, glaring at the Galra – Keith, he couldn't believe it, was this really him? – in accusation. 

The Galra continued to eat as if Lance wasn't even there. 

Eventually, Lance gave up and went back to his room to get some sleep. 

That fond little snort replayed itself in his mind all night. 

 

***** 

 

 **{{{**

There was one thing that Keith would grudgingly admit: The Galra were very creative when it came to torturing him. But after a third trip to the healing pod, it seemed they had understood that physical pain alone was not going to make him talk. 

So now they weren't giving him any more food or water. 

Keith felt awful. His whole body ached, his stomach felt as if it was filled with molten lead, his throat burnt, his head ached, and he felt terribly dizzy. If he had to guess, it would be another hour or two before they would give him his much too small ration of water and food. Just enough to keep him alive, keep him awake, keep him aware of everything that they were doing to him. Like the Galra behind him, who was steadily pushing something sharp – a sword maybe, with at least one barb, judging by the gruesome ripping sensation whenever said something was pulled back out – into Keith's lower back. 

By now, Keith was actually able to recognize the Galra by the scar on his chin. If Keith had caught it correctly, the Galra's name was Rovik. He and the alien with the creepy mask were the ones conducting most of the– interrogations. Though just a few hours ago, Keith was sure he'd caught a glimpse of Haggar. He wasn't admitting to any kind of fear here, but he was holding out hope that she wouldn't talk to him again. No matter what he did, he always felt as if he was playing straight into her hands. It was probably because of that evil, self-satisfied smirk of hers. 

Rovik shifted behind him, then twisted the blade, pushing it in deeper. Accompanying that, Keith's headache flared up, a searing kind of pain as if his brain was swelling up and cracking open his skull. A scream of pain ripped from his throat, and with the pounding, drilling feeling in his head, Keith couldn't even focus enough to feel ashamed of showing weakness. This wasn't the first time he had screamed by far, anyway. 

The edges of his vision were blurring, black and white spots dancing over the bleak metal walls that were the only thing Keith could look at with the way his arms were pulled up by chains in imitation of a 'Y'. He bit down on his lower lip firmly, readying himself for whenever the Galra was going to push the blade in even deeper. 

It couldn't be much longer now, he reminded himself. He had to be prisoner of the Galra for at least two weeks by now, at least by his estimation. The team had to be close to finding him. He was sure of it. 

The blade pushed in deeper, just as Keith had expected. 

He thought of Shiro's hand squeezing his shoulder, reassuring him and calming him down whenever he needed it. Shiro wouldn't give up on him. He and the others would find him, Keith was sure. 

The blade twisted, and Keith shouted out in pain again. 

Hunk with those friendly bear hugs, with strength that could probably crush Keith's bones but had only ever made him feel safe and welcome. 

Keith couldn't even feel the blood dripping down his back anymore. That was bad, probably. But it also meant that they would have to stop soon, or he'd pass out. Passing out sounded nice right about now. 

He remembered finding Pidge passed out after a night of working, once or twice. Pidge, who was still looking for her family, but also said that they as a team were a family. _His_ Family. 

The blade pulled out, its barb tearing at Keith's flesh. There wasn't enough air in his lungs to scream, so all that came out was a choked off gurgle. He slumped forward, the chains digging into his wrists, but that minor amount of pain was something he didn't even feel over the violent waves of it that were flaring out from his back. 

Lance. 

Lance with his loud voice and wide smile, all those silly jokes and his annoying insistence on being rivals. His surprisingly smart ideas, his good heart and bravado, his loyalty to his friends and the way he made something hot and prickling flare up in Keith's chest. The way Lance would hit on every single female – and only female – human and non-human being they encountered, causing Keith's heart to crack a little every time, but that didn't matter. 

What mattered was that they were his team, and they would come and save him. 

The digging sensation in Keith's brain intensified. 

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Marvin-Rupert, I guess.
> 
> Finally we have a little bit of progress. I can't wait to actually use Keith's name again in something other than the flashbacks. And oh my god, I am never writing a scene with six characters in it ever again. Just. Nope. No.
> 
> I feel like there's important stuff I should say about this chapter, but there's not actually much happening so far. Lance connecting with the Galra is and will continue to be slow, while I try to figure out how much I'm willing to write about Keith being tortured :) I've been learning for my clinical psychology exam for weeks and I'm afraid it will show in this fic. Sorry guys.
> 
> All the nice comments and kudos really keep me going, though, and I want to thank all of you for that <3 It is so amazing to hear what all of you think of this fic so far and expect to happen next, this is what fuels me :) As usual, update hopefully shouldn't take longer than a week. Wouldn't want to keep you guys and poor Lance waiting for too long ;)


	4. Wonder when I'll recognize you anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey there, Keith," Lance greeted the Galra. He received absolutely no acknowledgement whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual big thank you to [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) for sticking around to beta read, listening to my whining and helping me out with ideas <3
> 
> And another big thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, I appreciate it so much! Knowing that people read and enjoy this fic gives me so much motivation to keep working on it =)
> 
> This chapter's title is from "Once" by Caleb Kane, which is nice and sad and sort of fitting for the chapter.

"It's Keith," Lance announced loudly over breakfast goo the next morning. 

Coran and Allura were off doing something elsewhere, so with Hunk still in the healing pod only Pidge and Shiro were around, but even considering that, the expected cheer was sorely lacking. 

"Lance, you've said that ever since we found him," Pidge muttered around her fork, failing to see what Lance had accomplished. It looked like he had to spell it out for them. 

"No, up till now I was _hoping_ it was Keith. Now I'm _sure_ ," he clarified. 

"Why is that?" Shiro asked, finally looking at least a little intrigued. Better late than never, Lance would take it. 

"He made fun of my face mask last night," Lance told him, brimming with pride. Finally Shiro's and Pidge's jaws dropped in the way he'd been hoping for. 

"He _talked_? It's really him?" Shiro's eyes were wide as he leaned forward, gleaming with hope, and suddenly Lance felt the distinct urge to slow him down. 

"No, no, just. I was about to go to sleep but then I remembered that I still needed to bring him goo since Hunk is in the pod, so I went in my PJs. And he saw, and did that— scoff. But like. Fondly. More fondly than usual," Lance explained. It only broke his heart a little to see how Shiro deflated at his words. 

"So we still can't be sure it's him?" the black paladin asked, lips pulled down in a disappointed little frown. Great, now Lance actually felt bad for his great discovery. 

"Well, it's something other than anger or apathy, I'll give you that," Pidge hummed. "Though anyone might be inclined to scoff at your beauty regimen, not just Keith." 

"It's _him_ , I'm telling you," Lance insisted. "I'd know that scoff anywhere, even if his face is purple and he's got fangs now." 

"I hope you're right about this," Shiro muttered, frowning slightly. "But we should really give it some more time before we jump to any conclusions." 

"I can't wait for Hunk to get out of the pod. He'll show the appropriate appreciation for this," Lance grumbled sullenly. 

"If he's—" Shiro began, then broke off. "If you continue to make progress like this, I'm sure we'll know more soon." He smiled tentatively, but Lance couldn't help but think that it looked a bit pained. He really wondered how Shiro was feeling about all of this. Or if the black paladin would come around to visiting the Galra — Keith — soon. 

"I totally will," Lance mumbled, nodding decisively. "He'll come back to us, I know it." 

"I hope you're right, Lance." 

It was just Lance's personal opinion, of course, but he really thought Shiro's words could have done with a bit more optimism and a bit less sadness in them. 

 

***** 

 

"Okay, so I told everyone you're Keith — actually just Pidge and Shiro, so not even half the people on this ship besides you and me, but never mind — so now you really need to start recovering, or it'll be very embarrassing for me," Lance told the Galra, leaning in his usual niche. 

When he had come to the cell, he'd hoped that maybe something would happen, after their small breakthrough the night before, but today the Galra was ignoring him again like he always did. 

It was very frustrating. 

"Come on," Lance whined as the silence dragged on. "Keiiiiiiith. Buddy. Don't be like this." 

The Galra sat curled up against the left wall of the cell, not even looking at him. 

One of these days, Lance was going to have an aneurysm. He couldn't wait for Hunk to wake up and share his suffering again. 

After another hour of very one-sided conversations, he got up with a deep sigh. 

"Okay, so you don't want to build on our progress from last night, for whatever reason. I don't get why, but _fine_. I'll just let you have some alone time and come back later, okay?" Lance gave the Galra a long look, but didn't get any reaction. 

With a frustrated huff, he turned around and left. 

 

***** 

 

"Okay, so. Please don't tell Shiro—" 

"Lance, what did you _do_?" 

"Nothing, just—" Lance looked around the room, making sure no one else was around before he leaned closer to Pidge with a guilty expression. "It's just that the system Hunk and I have for whose turn it is to bring the Galra food goo might not be perfect, and at times we might have forgotten to— bring him any goo. Like. At all. Like, for example, yesterday." 

" _Lance_ ," Pidge hissed, somehow managing to pitch her voice all high and disappointed despite the fact that she was whispering. "It's not a _pet_. How could you _forget_ to bring him anything to eat?" 

"As I said, our system is not perfect. And it was Hunk's turn yesterday, but he was in the pod," Lance defended himself. "But anyway, that is why I'm here. Do you think you could build some neat little gimmick so that won't happen again? Like a space phone? Or some button he can press so Hunk and I will know if he needs something?" 

"That's— probably, yeah," Pidge hummed, looking thoughtful for a moment. Lance had a distinct feeling she was already assembling something like that in her mind. "But are you sure that's a good idea? If this is some Galra spy sent to destroy us, I'm sure he could figure out a way to use something like that against us." 

"Well, without it we might accidentally let him starve to death, so yeah, we _do_ need it," Lance insisted, crossing his arms. 

Pidge shrugged. "Fine. I'll build something. But if the Galra manages to murder us because of this, know that my ghost will be haunting your ghost for all eternity." 

"Sure," Lance chuckled. 

Going back to being ignored by the Galra didn't seem all that exciting at the moment, so he stuck around for a bit longer as Pidge sifted through parts and sorted some out. 

"Hey," he asked after a while, shifting from one foot to the other. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure," Pidge hummed, digging through a box of things that Lance couldn't really identify beyond 'tech stuff parts'. 

"Why are you so mean to the Galra?" 

"What?" Pidge looked up at him, frowning slightly. 

Lance threw his arms out, gesturing as words seemed to fail him at the moment. "I mean— It's like you don't want him to be Keith! Like, you're extra mean to him on purpose and acting as if he _has_ to be the enemy, and I don't understand why." 

"You want it to be Keith, don't you?" Pidge muttered quietly, going back to digging through the box, though it looked less purposeful and a lot more aggressive now. "It's like _you're_ forgetting that this Galra tries to kill us every chance it gets." 

"We don't know what he's been through, Pidge. We don't know _anything_. Only that he _looks_ like Keith and hates being asked questions and for some reason does nothing but sit around in his cell all day unless someone makes him angry!" Lance's voice got louder as he began pacing around, wringing his hands. "And I don't want Keith to be in _that state_ , but of course I want it to be him! What's the other option? Him still being prisoner of the Galra? Would that be _better_?" 

"Of course not," Pidge hissed. "But if this is him, then what does that _mean_ , Lance?" 

"What— what?" Lance looked at her in confusion. "It means we'll have to help him recover from whatever they did. And it might take a while, but I know we can—" 

" _No_ ," Pidge cut him off, glaring up at him, and Lance honestly didn't get why she looked so upset. "What would that _mean_?" 

Lance looked at her in confusion, then shrugged helplessly. 

Pidge sighed, frustration clear in her face. "What I'm trying to say is— If this Galra is Keith, then what does that mean? For us, for the universe as a whole. If they could do this to Keith, could they do it to anyone? Are the Galra able to turn random people into Galra as well? Make them forget their friends and turn them into blood-thirsty killing machines?" 

"Pidge," Lance tried to cut off his friend's rant, because now he did get where she was going with this. 

"If they could to this to Keith, one of the most stubborn people we know, in a little more than two months," Pidge kept going anyway, "then what can they do to other humans in more than a year?" 

"You mean your family," Lance stated. 

" _Yes_ , Lance!" Pidge yelled, throwing up her arms, parts long forgotten. " _Of course_ I mean my family! They've had my brother and father for over a year! Shiro barely escaped and almost died so often and _lost an entire arm_. But if they can turn random people into feral Galra as well? What if that is what happened to them? What if we find them one day and they're also purple and angry and only ever move because they want to kill something? What if they're just Galra like all the others and we won't even notice it's them? What if that already happened and some random Galra soldier one of us shot down somewhere was actually Matt or my Dad, and we didn't even _notice_ —" 

Pidge's voice broke on the last word, and Lance hurried to move closer and sit down next to her, feeling a little guilty now for bringing up the issue. 

"I'm sure that's not what happened, Pidge," he tried to assure her, patting her shoulder. 

He was always worrying so much about his family back on Earth, but he could only imagine how difficult things had to be for her, knowing her father and brother were in the clutches of the Galra. Hell, Lance had barely made it through the two months of Keith being captured. 

"I don't know what they did to turn Keith into a Galra— if this is really him," he murmured. "But I know one thing, and that is—if this is Keith, he's not on their side. He's out of it and obviously not dealing well, but he's as far from being a regular Galra soldier as one can be— like, remember seeing him tear out that other Galra's throat when we found him? He might be feral and aggressive, but he's not one of them. We recognized Keith — Maybe-Keith — and when we find them, whether they look like Galra or not, we will recognize them, too. I know that. And I am hardly ever wrong." 

"You did fine until that last sentence," Pidge murmured quietly, looking up at Lance with a crooked little smile. 

Lance grinned back proudly. "I don't know what you mean, that was a grade A pep talk. And just for the record, I meant every word." He gave Pidge's shoulder a squeeze. "We found Keith, and we'll find them. We recognized Keith, and we'll recognize them. We'll get Keith back to his old annoying self, and we'll do the same for them if it's necessary. Don't doubt that for a moment." 

"Thanks, Lance," Pidge hummed. "I appreciate that. You can be surprisingly thoughtful at times." 

"I always am," Lance corrected her, getting up from the ground. "But now I have to get back to our angry purple friend. He needs my encouraging words even more than you do." 

"Good luck with that," Pidge chuckled behind him. 

"What was that?" Lance asked with a grin. "Finally admitting that I'm on to something here?" 

"No way," Pidge huffed, but there was a small smile on her lips. "Just— hoping, I guess." 

"It's not hoping when I'm guaranteed to be right," Lance called over his shoulder, grinning wider when Pidge laughed. 

"Sure. Just leave me alone already so I can put something together that will prevent you from forgetting to bring the Galra food again," Pidge called after him. 

Lance stuck out his tongue at her. 

As far as small errands went, he felt like this one had gone quite well. 

 

***** 

 

"Hey there, Keith," Lance greeted the Galra. He received absolutely no acknowledgement whatsoever. 

Two weeks ago he would have been disappointed by that, but by now he took it in stride. With less, more internalized disappointment. 

"You know, now that you've slipped up and I _know_ that it's really you and not some random Galra," Lance began, leaning close to the space glass, "and since you refuse to talk to us or draw something down, or just communicate in any way, I thought it was time to try something new." 

With flourish he pulled out two of the headsets they used for practicing mind melding from behind his back, holding them out. 

"See, this way you don't even have to do—" 

Lance didn't get further than that, cut off by the Galra hissing at him, baring his sharp fangs. His ears were pressed flat against his head as he glared at the blue paladin. And Lance was used to the Galra not liking something he did and getting angry, but this seemed—different. 

Usually, the Galra would throw himself against the space glass, scratching at it furiously as if he was trying to break it and then take Lance's head off. But now the Galra was still sitting in the same spot as before, maybe curling up a little tighter despite the murderous expression on his purple face. He almost looked—scared? 

"Hey, no, it's okay," Lance hurried to say, placing the two headsets down on the ground next to the cell, out of sight of the Galra, then holding up his empty hands. "See? This isn't like the thing with your collar. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. Which, judging by all that hissing, I'm guessing you don't." 

The Galra growled at him, teeth still bared. But his ears perked up, at least a little. 

"Come on, are you going to hold a grudge against me _again_? You just stopped being pissed at me for the collar thing," Lance muttered, settling down in his usual niche. "We were making progress here, buddy." 

The Galra glared at him. Or maybe he glared at a random spot on the wall. Lance just couldn't tell with those yellow eyes. 

"Do I have to show up in my PJs again, hm? Is that what it will take? Because I totally will. You just have to, like. Nod. Come on. Keith." 

The Galra glared. 

Lance sighed, leaning against the wall, head rolling back. "You're such an asshole, Keith," he grumbled. 

The Galra hissed sharply, and Lance's gaze immediately snapped back to him. Was Keith finally reacting to Lance insulting him? 

But no, the Galra was just glaring at Allura, who was walking down the hallway towards them, coming to a stop in front of the cell. 

"I still don't know what he has against you and Coran," Lance muttered in greeting. 

Allura shrugged. "Me neither. Though I do wonder sometimes what it is." She looked over at the Galra, meeting his glare with a worried expression. "Do you really think it's him?" 

"Yeah." Lance nodded decisively. "Is that what brings you down here? Or did you just miss my handsome face?" He waggled his brows, completely unimpressed by the cold look he received. 

"Coran is cleaning up the training deck and apparently some of the equipment is missing. He was wondering if you've seen it," Allura explained. 

"You mean the mind melding stuff? Yeah, I got that here." Lance pulled the two headsets out from behind him, holding them up. He sent a surreptitious glance over towards the Galra, who seemed to tense up a little at seeing them, but Lance couldn't say for sure. "I thought mind melding with him might help—like, you know, at least confirm once and for all that it's Keith we're dealing with here, since everyone but me and Hunk still seems to doubt that. But as it turns out, he's not a fan of that idea." 

"I see." Allura nodded. "I could take them back to the training deck then?" 

"Nah, that's fine. I'll walk with you," Lance muttered, getting to his feet. "He's just ignoring me again. I might as well grace someone with my presence who knows to _appreciate_ it." 

Allura's brows rose in disbelief. The Galra didn't move at all. Lance didn't really expect anything else. 

"He's really not doing anything but sitting there and getting angry sometimes?"Allura asked after they had turned a few corners, out of earshot from the Galra. 

Lance shrugged. "Not really. I swear he snorted when he saw me with my face cream on last night, but that was like. One second. Out of all this time he's been here now." 

Allura nodded, brows drawn together. "Yes, Shiro says so, too." 

"Shiro comes to visit him?" Lance asked, surprised. And as soon as that shock had settled, added on, "He talks to you? About this?" 

Allura nodded again. "Has he not mentioned that to you? He prefers to go when no one else is around. I don't think he's taking it—well." 

"Of course he's not," Lance muttered. "He's had more than enough issues with the Galra even before they swooped in and got their hands on Keith." 

"I also think it reminds him too much of the situation with Sendak," Allura added with a thoughtful look. 

"Back when the Castle was trying to kill us?" 

She pursed her lips in distaste. "Yes, I think so. It isn't quite the same, but this is still a Galra, prisoner on this ship, refusing to react to anything he says or give up any kind of information. And talking to him has to be difficult, so long as we don't know if it's Keith or the enemy." 

"It's Keith. It's _confirmed_ ," Lance muttered sullenly. "Me and Hunk are going to prove it to you guys somehow. Once he finally gets out of the pod." 

"I very much hope so," Allura hummed, a small smile on her face. Lance couldn't help but feel that it looked sad. 

"You can also tell Shiro, during one of your intimate one-on-one get-togethers," he added loudly and with a smirk, waggling his brows at the words and reveling in the annoyed look he received for it, "that I'm the one who spends the most time down there with him. So if anyone gets to eject him out into space out of sheer frustration, it's going to be me." 

"I'll make sure to tell him that," Allura chuckled, a more genuine smile tugging at her lips now. 

Lance's grin grew. It was nice to talk to people who actually reacted to what he said. 

They split at the door to the training deck, where Lance went inside to hand his two headsets over to Coran. He really should have known better by now than to directly speak to the other Altean, seeing as he quickly got loped into helping to clean the Castle again. 

Spending the rest of the day sweeping floors wasn't so bad, though. At least Coran made for more interesting company than the Galra. 

But Lance couldn't stop wondering about what else he could do to help Keith. What else was there left to try? 

 

***** 

 

 **{{{**

Keith felt as if he had barely enough strength left to suck air into his lungs, then push it back out. 

In, out. In, out. In. 

The monotony of it gave him something to focus on that was not the agony rolling through his body. By now, he was almost able to blind it out, if he just stayed really still and focused on nothing but breathing. As long as he did that, he could almost forget about the jarring pain of the cuts, the burns, the few broken bones, and various other injuries he wasn't sure had been inflicted on humans before. 

They were still starving him, and his headache was pounding away inside his skull, searing up sharply whenever Keith dared to move his head. Not that he would try. He felt awfully dizzy, even sitting down with his knees pulled up against his chest, hands resting just above his knees as the chains connected to the shackles at his wrists didn't allow those few inches more. 

They never gave him much time to rest, and he really should be using it to sleep. But with this kind of headache, he couldn't. 

It felt almost ridiculous, that he was in so much pain from a simple headache, after everything they had put him through. 

He wasn't sure how long he had been the Galra's prisoner by now. It had been hard enough to keep track of time when they were in the Castle of Lions, but here, like this? It felt like too long. 

How much longer would it take? 

They still hadn't managed to find Pidge's brother and father. And those two had been prisoners for well over a year by now. 

Would it take the team that long to find him? 

Would it take them even longer? 

Keith knew he could be too stubborn for his own good at times. But he had his doubts if his stubbornness and resolve would last for _months_ more of this. 

He would never give them up. Never. 

But how long could he hold on to that? How long would it take until the Galra lost their patience and just took everything they could from him, no matter what the cost? How long until one of them would truly push too far and Keith would lose a limb, his mind, his life? 

He couldn't give up hope that his team was coming for him. 

But he wondered what would happen if they didn't make it in time. If they found him, but too late. Found him beaten, broken, dead. 

Having to go through months, even _years_ more of this, only to lose the fight and end up like that... The thought was more terrifying than Keith would ever admit. It had him choking on air, chest too tight, something cold and unforgiving crushing him under its weight. His eyes were burning and for the first time since they caught him, he didn't have the strength anymore to hold back his tears. 

His knees grew wet as his body heaved with shaking sobs, igniting the pain in his limbs all over again. 

He didn't know how much more of this he could take. 

He just wanted them to _find him_ already. 

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there isn't actually anything happening in this chapter, sorry :''') Just more of the team's reactions. And sneaky hints to future developments that probably no one is going to catch :')
> 
> Keith's progress takes time. There will be some in the next chapter, I promise. Not sure when that will be uploaded, though. I have a very huge and important exam next week, so it might take me a bit longer than usual. Hopefully not by much. We'll see :')


	5. So far gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It _is_ him," Lance insisted, attention focused on the Galra. "Right, Keith? Back me up here, buddy." 
> 
> The Galra didn't move. Lance grunted in frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Never Surrender by All Good Things. Song doesn't really fit the mood of the chapter but it's really great :') One day I shall learn how to come up with my own chapter titles, but that day is not today...
> 
> The usual huge thank you to [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) for being my beta reader and just the greatest friend in general :*  
> And the other thank you to all of you who left kudos and comments. I thrive on attention and I love all of you :)

Lance spent the rest of the day cleaning the Castle with Coran, exchanging stories with the Altean. It was fun, but then it was pretty late before he got to bring the Galra some food goo. Usually he would do that before changing into his pajamas and putting on his face cream. But after the small breakthrough the evening before, Lance got ready for bed first and only then, complete with lion slippers and dressing gown, filled a bowl with goo and went to the Galra's cell. 

He didn't want to get his hopes up too high, which was probably for the best, since the Galra didn't react to him at all when he showed up. Lance pulled a face as he set down the bowl and slid it inside the cell. 

"You know, this would really be a lot easier if you just told us what you need for once," he murmured, receiving no reply. The Galra's ears didn't even twitch. 

Lance sighed deeply and went back to his room to go to bed. 

 

***** 

 

At least some good things happened in Lance's life and Hunk was back for breakfast the next morning, strolling in late when only Lance and Pidge were still eating. 

"Dude, when did you get out of the pod?" Lance greeted his friend with a wide smile, welcoming Hunk's expected hug with open arms and grinning even more when he was squeezed tightly before being let go. 

"Sometime last night. Went straight to bed," Hunk replied, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "I'm good as new." 

"It's good to have you back," Pidge hummed from the side, promptly receiving a hug as well. 

"You totally slept through my breakthrough with Keith!" Lance announced as Hunk got himself a portion of goo. 

"What? What happened?" Hunk asked with wide eyes, flopping down next to Lance. 

"Apparently the Galra made fun of Lance's beauty products," Pidge muttered dryly. 

"He snorted! Fondly, I might add. A very fond, very Keith-ish snort," Lance explained, waving his arms for emphasis. "I went down late with my face mask on, and he _snorted_." 

"And after that he went right back to ignoring us," Pidge added on. 

"Stop diminishing my success!" Lance growled, glaring at her. 

Pidge shrugged, unimpressed. "Stop blowing it up so big. You make it sound like you magically turned that Galra into Keith or something. You got Shiro's hopes up high and then he was all heartbroken yesterday when it turned out that nothing changed." 

"Lies! Nothing but slander!" Lance complained loudly, turning to Hunk for support. But the damn traitor only held up his hands. 

"Don't look at me, man, I was in the pod." 

"Shiro's been moping around ever since your 'big announcement' yesterday turned out to be a fluke. How could you _not_ notice that?" Pidge muttered, rolling her eyes. 

"It wasn't a _fluke_ , he did snort!" Lance defended himself, leaning back with his arms crossed. 

"Damn, I can't believe I missed that," Hunk hummed, digging into his goo. 

"You also missed how Lance almost forgot to bring the Galra any food all day," Pidge added on. That evil little snitch. 

"You _what_?" Hunk's voice went up by at least one octave, and Lance guiltily shrunk down under his friend's disappointed stare. 

"I didn't mean to, okay? And it _was_ your turn to bring him goo that day, theoretically!" he squeaked, waving his hands. "Besides, I already asked Pidge to build us something so he can contact us in the future if something like that happens." 

"Huh," Hunk muttered, looking a little intrigued. "That sounds pretty smart, actually. Need any help with that, Pidge?" 

"Wouldn't mind it," Pidge answered, getting up and grabbing her empty bowl. "See you in a bit?" 

"Yeah," Hunk agreed with a nod. 

Once Pidge had left, Lance slumped forward. He took a deep breath, then sighed loudly. 

"What is it?" Hunk asked, ever the attentive friend. 

Lance sighed another long, deep sigh, which was not at all overdramatic. "Just—It kind of sucks that you weren't around yesterday or the evening before that when he reacted. It feels like the others don't even believe me it happened. Even _I'm_ starting to doubt it happened." 

Hunk hummed, nodding for him to go on. 

"And—I mean, he went right back to how he acted before that? It's just frustrating. How are we ever supposed to make progress if the little we _do_ achieve doesn't last?" Lance draped himself over the table, running a hand through his hair. "He doesn't even do anything! He always acts like we aren't even there." 

"I don't think that's how things really are?" Hunk muttered, abandoning his goo for the moment. Lance looked up at him from the table. "I mean. Sure, progress is slow, and this one reaction you got wasn't much, but at least we have something to go from now?" 

"But I tried the same thing again last night and then he just ignored me again," Lance grumbled unhappily. 

Hunk shrugged. "So, one more mystery we'll have to figure out. At least now we know he _can_ react to things. That's a start." Hunk patted Lance's shoulder with an encouraging smile. "We'll figure it out. I mean—we're the legs. We have to keep _going_ when things get tough." 

Lance snorted out a laugh. "Was that a pun? That was awful." 

"It was _brilliant_ and you know it," Hunk huffed, going back to eating his goo. 

"I appreciate your effort," Lance chuckled, straightening up. "But I'm not sure if I can _stand_ your puns." 

"Dude, _that_ was horrible," Hunk huffed, grinning around his spork. 

Lance grinned even wider. "Guess I'm just not made to be a _stand-up_ comedian, huh." 

"Stop," Hunk giggled. 

Lance lent in closer with a conspiratorial grin. "My puns are _leg_ endary." 

" _Dude_ ," Hunk laughed, "stop it. You have no leg to stand on with those puns." 

Lance joined in, laughing until his stomach hurt. 

He was so glad Hunk was finally out of that pod. 

 

***** 

 

It took another day, but then Pidge and Hunk proudly presented their newly built communication device. 

"Guys, that's just a button," Lance muttered dryly, eyeing the small metal device in Pidge's hands. It looked like a regular clicker for dogs, with a bright orange button in the middle. Hunk was holding two other devices that sort of looked like smartphones. Very old, very ugly smartphones. 

"If you can whip up something better in such little time, go ahead and do it," Pidge grumbled, chucking the clicker at Lance. "Here, the Galra gets this. Whenever he presses the button, those two—" she motioned to the two not-smartphones in Hunks hand "—will beep and a window will pop up, so even if you're asleep or on a mission or something, you can see if he beeped you." 

"That's—really neat, actually," Lance amended. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome," Pidge huffed. "Jut remember what I said about not letting the Galra take advantage of this to murder us all." 

"Yes, _mom_ ," Lance grumbled, rolling his eyes. "One question. Why are there only two—receivers?" 

"We figured it'd be easier that way," Hunk explained. "If too many of us have one, half the team is going to show up at his cell every time he presses the button. If it's only you and me, it'll be easier to coordinate." 

"Makes sense," Lance hummed, taking one of the devices from him, looking it over. It really looked a lot like a bulky smartphone, complete with a button below the screen. 

"Well, good luck," Pidge muttered, turning around. "And don't forget to feed the guy anymore. Seriously." 

"We won't," Hunk assured her, pointedly side-eyeing Lance. 

Lance stuck out his tongue at him. 

 

***** 

 

"Keith, look, we brought you a present!" Lance announced loudly as he and Hunk approached the cell, holding out the clicker. Or beeper, technically, since their devices were supposed to beep. 

The Galra didn't move. Or maybe his ears sort of angled themselves towards Lance? Minimally? It was hard to tell. 

Lance set the beeper down on the ground, opened the hatch and slid it into the cell. 

Still no reaction. 

He sat down, leaning against the space glass with a sigh. "Okay, fine. Just ignore me then." 

"Pidge and I put this together for you," Hunk began to explain, after sitting down as well. "You just have to press the button, and one of us—either me or Lance—will show up. You know, in case we forget to bring you food goo, or water pouches. Or if you ever feel lonely." 

They waited for a few moments, but the Galra still refused to react. 

Eventually, Lance got up and left. 

Maybe the Galra just wanted some space? Besides, Lance had been slacking off with his training and there were lots of other important things to do. 

* 

The next time he went to visit the Galra, the beeper sat next to the mattress, at the back of the cell. The Galra was curled up in his usual spot and still not talking. 

Lance decided to be optimistic and considered that a small win. 

 

***** 

 

"What else do you think we could try?" Lance asked Hunk, slouching on one of the couches in what they had dubbed the 'Lobby' of the Castle. Pidge was sitting across from them, typing away on her laptop. Lance had no idea what she was doing, but it made for very relaxing background noise. 

"I don't know," Hunk muttered. "I think I've told him about everything we've been through together at least three times. If we keep this up, he's gonna' know everything Keith did even if it's not really him." 

"Great job, guys," Pidge complimented them dryly. Lance stuck out his tongue at her. 

"Have you tried his stuff yet?" Hunk asked, cutting Lance off before he could say something maybe not so nice to Pidge. 

"Huh?" 

"His stuff. Like," Hunk made a vague gesture with his hands. "His clothes. His—okay, no, maybe not his bayard in case he tries to behead us, but. I don't know. Maybe he has other things in his room? Or we could ask Shiro?" 

"I'm not sure if Shiro wants anything to do with the Galra. He doesn't even visit the cell," Pidge threw in. 

"He does," Lance argued, receiving two surprised looks from his friends. "I thought he didn't go down there, either, but Allura said that he does. He just does it when none of us are around. Apparently he's not dealing with it well." 

"Well, that's no surprise to anyone," Hunk muttered thoughtfully. "I mean, he has his Keith issues and his Galra issues, and with this current situation those kind of—" he moved his fists towards each other, then made an exploding motion, "boom, y'know." 

"Dude, what even is a 'Keith issue'?" Lance huffed, crossing his arms. 

"Like—that thing they have," Hunk tried, looking at Pidge for help. 

"I think Hunk means how Shiro is Keith's father, slash brother, slash protective boyfriend figure, how Keith got himself kicked out of the Garrison and went to live in a shack in the desert for a year when Shiro disappeared, and how Keith immediately went and saved Shiro when he landed back on Earth," Pidge explained. 

"First of all, _we_ saved Shiro. _Together_ ," Lance corrected her. "And that is more like—Keith has Shiro issues, not the other way around." 

"Shiro has all those things, just from the other side of the relationship. _Keith issues_ ," Hunk argued, nodding decisively. "And now he has to deal with the fact that his ultimate Keith issue, Keith himself, got taken by the same aliens that had him in captivity for a year, and what came back looks like those exact aliens. _And_ tried to kill him." 

"Dude, I know that, we were all there," Lance huffed. 

"I know. I'm just trying to say, I get why he wouldn't want to have us around when he has to deal with that fusion of his Galra issues and Keith issues," Hunk muttered. "Like, if I had to deal with something that kind of looks like my little bro and kind of looks like the aliens that tortured me for an entire year, and didn't know if it actually _is_ my little bro or just an alien that kind of looks like him, I wouldn't be holding up half as well as he is." 

"I guess so," Lance murmured. "We should still ask him if he knows anything else we could do to help Keith, though." 

"And try the clothes?" Hunk asked. 

Lance nodded. "Yeah, and try the clothes." 

 

***** 

 

They asked Shiro, and apparently Keith also had a knife that he was quite attached to. But just like the bayard, said knife was deemed too dangerous to hand it over to the Galra, so they stuck to sneaking into Keith's room, grabbing a set of his clothes, and taking those to the cell. Keith's room was creepy after more than two months of the red paladin not using it. 

"Hey, buddy. We got you something," Hunk greeted the Galra when they came to the cell. 

At this point, Lance was prepared to receive no acknowledgement whatsoever, which was exactly what happened. 

Hunk set the clothes down and slid them into the cell. "Those were yours, remember? Or, y'know, one of the many replicas the Castle fabricated for us, but you get the gist. We thought you might like those better than those nondescript gray jumpsuits we usually bring for you?" 

No reaction. 

Lance waited for a moment, then huffed in frustration. "I'll go and train. Call me if anything happens." 

"Sure," Hunk murmured, settling down on the ground for a longer stay. "See you at dinner." 

"See you." 

At least training was a useful way to channel his frustration, Lance thought to himself. He really tried not to get his hopes up too high anymore, but it was still disappointing when _nothing_ happened. And they were running out of things to try. 

Just how much longer did the Galra—Keith—plan on acting like they weren't even there? The Galra could eat and drink and shower and take care of himself just _fine_. He was functional. He could hear and understand everything they told him, Lance was sure. And Lance got that things had to be hard for Keith after being prisoner of the Galra for so long, but— 

Lance wasn't sure what to do to help him anymore. 

 

***** 

 

Hunk showed up for evening goo with a dejected expression on his face. "He didn't even move all afternoon," he muttered unhappily. 

Lance sighed, patting his friend's shoulder. 

He tried to ignore the pinched look on Shiro's face, Allura's little frown, the deep crease between Coran's brows, and the way Pidge pressed her lips together tightly. 

* 

When he went to the cell the next morning, the clothes were still exactly where they had left them the day before. The Galra was curled up in his usual spot. 

Lance took the clothes and slid the bowl of goo inside. He glanced towards the beeper that still sat next to mattress, and reminded himself that at least _sometimes_ there seemed to be a little bit of progress. 

Even if it didn't really feel that way. 

 

***** 

 

Probably the most interesting thing that happened over the next few days was the one time Lance thought the Galra had escaped somehow. Or evaporated. Who knew what Galra were really capable of? 

It went something like this: Lance went to the cell to bring the Galra breakfast goo, perhaps a bit earlier than usual. The cell was empty. 

Lance panicked for maybe five seconds, then the doorway to the bathroom slid open. The Galra stepped out, dressed in the usual gray clothing and dropping a towel next to the hatch, then sitting down to curl up in his spot, not gracing Lance with even a single glance. 

Lance took a few deep breaths to calm down his rapidly beating heart, then took the towel and slid the bowl with goo inside. 

"You just scared me to death, asshole," he grumbled, receiving no reaction. 

* 

Pidge almost fell off her chair from laughing when Lance told her the story later over breakfast. 

 

***** 

 

It was early afternoon, going by the time schedule they had going on the Castle—some time between lunch goo and Allura kicking their asses through afternoon practice—and Lance and Hunk were sitting in front of the Galra's cell. Well, Hunk was sitting. Lance was slouching in his niche at the right side of the space glass. 

He wasn't really sure if being here served a purpose any longer, since they had stopped actually talking _to_ the Galra. 

They were just talking to each other now, about when they would reach the next planet, when their next fight with the Galra Empire would be, and whether Allura would sic the android on them in training or make them run through the invisible maze first. 

It was nice and quite peaceful, actually. They stopped talking when they heard someone walking down the hallway towards them. 

"Hey," Pidge greeted them once she was close enough, waving her hand before pushing her glasses up her nose, holding her laptop under her other arm. "Need some—company?" 

"Sure," Hunk answered, patting the spot next to him. Pidge sat down, leaning against the wall across from the cell just like he did. 

"You don't usually come down here," Lance pointed out, glancing over to the Galra who didn't seem to care about this very unusual occurrence at all. 

"I thought it might not be a bad idea," Pidge murmured, opening her laptop, looking back and forth between the screen and the Galra. "I'm still not sure if it's really him, but—either way, it would be smart to keep an eye on him." 

"It _is_ him," Lance insisted, attention focused on the Galra. "Right, Keith? Back me up here, buddy." 

The Galra didn't move. Lance grunted in frustration. 

"He's really always like that?" Pidge asked, receiving two dejected nods and deep sighs. "Huh." 

"Well, Lance got him to react once, and we can do it again. He probably just needs time. It's only been like three weeks since we found him," Hunk hummed. "Eventually, he'll recognize us." 

"Maybe," Pidge muttered, sounding not at all convinced. She stared at the Galra for a few long moments. "Don't you think he kind of looks tired?" she asked then, squinting slightly. 

"What, Keith?" Lance asked, looking over at the Galra. Now that Pidge had mentioned it, the purple underneath the Galra's eyes did look kind of—like a darker purple than usual. Did Galra get shadows beneath their eyes like humans when they didn't get enough sleep? 

"Maybe he's not sleeping well?" Hunk wondered, shifting uncomfortably. "I mean, if he's Keith—he probably has nightmares, right?" 

"Or maybe it's not Keith and the Galra just doesn't like the mattress. Or that's just his usual murderous expression. You guys should know, you're the ones who talk to him every day," Pidge muttered. "I can't actually read his face at all." 

"Well, fret not, because we're the experts on reading Keith's purple face," Lance assured her proudly. 

"That's good, I guess," Pidge muttered with a shrug. "Though it wouldn't be the worst thing if it turns out this isn't Keith. I mean, sure, you'd have to explain to Keith how you could mistake him for a murderous Galra, but I'm sure he'd forgive you. And it'd save us a lot of drama." 

"It would not save us any drama. Look at us!" Lance waved his arms, gesturing at everything around them. "We're 'the last hope of the universe' and stuff. We're _living_ some grade A drama, right here." 

"Yeah, but if this turns out to be Keith and we continue our fight against the Galra Empire with the _One Good Galra_ on our side, it would be even more dramatic," Pidge hummed. "I mean, that would practically be _asking_ for the scenario of us finding a weapon that can take out all Galra. And then _our_ Galra, in a final act of heroism, has to activate it, saving the universe but effectively sacrificing his own life for it in the process." 

"Pidge, please stop asking for disaster. You are challenging fate like this," Hunk whined, looking distressed. 

Lance couldn't help but chuckle. "Okay, yeah, I saw that happen in at least two different Sci-Fi series. But I'm pretty sure the odds of a weapon targeting Galra, and only Galra specifically, actually existing are pretty low. Those only ever exist so there can be dramatic sacrifices. They're about as realistic as the stuff that only targets men, so there can be an episode where all the women get to handle things." 

"As if men need to be out of commission for women to handle things," Pidge muttered with a sour look. "Have you already forgotten how Allura woke up from ten thousand years of cryo-sleep and immediately kicked your ass?" 

"I was unprepared!" Lance defended himself, highly indignant. 

"Sure," Pidge chuckled. Hunk, the traitor, joined in. 

"Well, if all the men _were_ taken out of commission, things would actually be way easier," the yellow paladin hummed thoughtfully. "I mean, there's only one female Galra that we know of. That creepy witch person. Which is actually really weird, I mean, is there a reason none of their soldiers are women? Or are there women and we just don't recognize them as such? What are the odds of all the alien races out there sharing the human gender binary?" 

"Humans don't even have a gender binary," Pidge muttered. 

Hunk nodded. "Yeah, right. But I'm interested in this now. Do you think a lot of aliens have the same male/female dynamic as us? With a few exceptions? Because, oddly enough, most of them we've encountered so far seem to fit. Would our hypothetical anti-men weapon affect Galra and humans and Alteans the same way? What about Shay's people?" 

"Dude, you're getting way too into this," Lance chuckled, not that he had any intention of stopping Hunk's theories. It was something interesting to think about. Way more fun than certain team mates who had turned purple and refused to talk to him. 

"We should ask Allura and Coran if Alteans have only two genders," Hunk muttered, unperturbed by Lance's comment. 

"Far as I know, their hormones are quite similar to humans," Pidge hummed. "Though that would allow for a lot of nonbinary options, too, of course. Not to mention genders." 

"Oh, you asked them about that already?" Hunk looked at her in surprise. 

Pidge shrugged. "It came up when I asked them if there was anything in the Castle I could use before I ran out. Turns out the Castle can replicate my patches easily. Allura's still looking into a more permanent solution. She said something has likely already been invented, but neither she nor Coran are medical professionals, and they'd first have to adapt it to humans, too." 

"Oh." As interesting as that explanation was, Lance was mainly grateful for the extra time it provided him to pick his jaw back up from the floor. "I didn't know you're—" 

"Now you do," Pidge said flatly, giving him a challenging look. 

"Yeah." He nodded. "Wow, pretending to be a boy back at the Garrison must have really sucked, huh?" 

Pidge looked back at her screen, shrugging. "I didn't like it. But finding Matt and my dad is more important than that. And things got a lot easier after I told you guys I'm a girl." 

"Though everyone but Lance knew already," Hunk giggled. Lance grasped his chest dramatically at the unexpected betrayal. 

"Excuse you, Pidge put a lot of effort into that masquerade! Falling for it was only the sensible thing to do!" he defended himself, averting his gaze from his traitorous friend. That resulted in glancing at the Galra, who was—looking at them, maybe? The alien's head was still angled straight ahead, and those damned yellow eyes were lacking any kind of pupil, but for a short moment, Lance was sure that the Galra was glancing to the side. At _them_. 

But with those eyes, it was impossible to tell. 

Lance sighed and shrugged, looking back at Hunk and Pidge. It was probably just his wishful thinking. 

"Dude, you okay?" Hunk asked him, apparently having noticed Lance's short slip of attention. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered, sitting up a bit straighter. It was no use getting his hopes up when the Galra wasn't even _doing_ anything, he reminded himself. "Hey, Pidge, do you plan on letting your hair grow out again? You had it really long before, right?" 

Pidge hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure yet. I didn't want to cut it off, but I have no idea how I'd fit all that hair under my helmet. I haven't mastered hair buns the same way Allura has." 

"Allura is using some kind of space magic, I'm sure. There's no other explanation for those hair buns," Lance said, absolutely convinced. 

"Maybe I should ask her that, too, when I mention the gender thing," Hunk muttered, causing Pidge to giggle. 

"Please do," Lance backed her up. "I want to know her secrets. My sister's gonna' appreciate me knowing hair magic once we get back to Earth." 

Hunk glanced over at him, looking hesitant and worried for a short moment. Lance got up with a decisive nod before anything depressing could be said. 

"Don't look at me like that, dude. We'll get back there sooner or later. I've decided to embrace optimism on that issue," he declared loudly. 

"If you say so," Hunk murmured hesitantly, brows drawn together. 

"I do," Lance insisted. "So let's go and ask Allura before she makes us train again. Come on." 

"Fine," Hunk sighed, getting up as well, as did Pidge. 

"I wanna' know hair bun magic, too," she hummed, following them on their search for the princess. 

 

***** 

 

Two days later, when Lance went down to the Galra's cell to bring him his breakfast goo, he ran into Hunk, who was already sliding a bowl filled with goo inside. 

"Dude, what are you doing?" Lance asked, holding up his own bowl in confusion. "It's my turn today." 

"What? No." Hunk shook his head, looking slightly concerned as he eyed Lance's bowl. "It's my turn. You did it yesterday." 

"No, _you_ did it yesterday," Lance said, as realization slowly dawned on him. "You mean you _didn't_ bring him anything yesterday?" 

"You didn't, either?" Hunk asked, eyes wide with shock as he looked over to the Galra, who was ignoring them entirely in favor of calmly eating his food goo, as if nothing unusual was happening. 

"Fuck," Lance hissed quietly, as Hunk went off in a steady litany of "oh my god"s and "I'm so sorry"s. 

How could this have happened? He'd been sure that they had their schedule down by now—but apparently not. The thought of the Galra going hungry the entire day before made Lance feel slightly sick. 

But the Galra didn't seem bothered at all, sitting in his cell as he was now. Maybe he was eating a bit faster than usual? Maybe not? They should have measured his speed of eating before. 

Lance eventually moved forward, crouching down and sliding his bowl of goo into the cell as well. 

"Sorry, Keith," he muttered, adding another one to the dozen apologies Hunk had already issued. "Why didn't you say something? We were down here for at least two hours yesterday. And you have the beeper. Right there." Lance pointed to the small device that was still innocently placed next to the Galra's mattress. "You could've called us here, any time." 

The Galra continued to eat, ignoring Lance entirely. 

"You don't wanna' talk to us, fine, but you really could mention it when we forget to bring you anything to eat!" Lance huffed, guilt tilting over into frustration. He didn't get what was wrong. Why would the Galra not react, not even when they forgot to bring him anything to eat? 

Lance straightened back up and left at a hurried pace, hearing Hunk still apologizing to the Galra and telling him that this would never happen again and that he could call them _any time_ if he was hungry. 

Only when he was a few hallways down did Hunk's voice fade away. And only then Lance allowed himself to stop, fists clenched tightly as a frustrated noise slipped from his throat. 

He didn't get it. They were trying _everything_ they possibly could, and still the Galra refused to react, not even doing something as simple as pressing a button when they forgot to bring him food? Would he just have starved in his cell quietly, rather than _do_ something for once? 

That didn't sound like something Keith would do. Keith had always been headstrong and stubborn. Overly annoying, yes, but not someone who would ever go down without a fight. Keith used to make Lance's blood boil with his snide attitude and that infuriating amount of _talent_ he seemed to be overflowing with, whereas Lance had to work his ass off to even be half as good as him, but this— 

The uncomfortable, cold grip that was squeezing Lance's chest now, making it hard to breathe and causing Lance's eyes to burn— this was something different. 

For the first time since the Galra had snorted at his face mask, Lance began to doubt if this was really Keith. 

And—if it was him—would they ever be able to help him? 

 

***** 

 

Lance had made a lot of choices in his life that, in retrospect, he couldn't be proud of. He knew what it felt like to be disappointed in himself. He also knew that he was feeling that same kind of disappointment now, but that didn't stop him from avoiding the Galra's cell for the next few days. 

Instead, he spent his time cleaning the Castle with Coran, or training with Shiro, or simply sitting next to Hunk or Pidge when they were tinkering around with something. Hunk had likely noticed what he was doing, but the yellow paladin hadn't made him talk about it, and so Lance continued on. 

There wasn't even a reason to feel bad, he told himself. It wasn't like visiting the Galra would make a difference. Whether Lance went to the cell or not, whether he talked to him or not, the Galra would only sit there and stare at the wall. 

Lance could try to make the Galra angry again, get him snarling and clawing at the space glass, the way it had happened so often over the first few days. But that wouldn't help them, either. 

Whether the Galra was angry or ignoring them, he refused to actually talk. To move. To be the Keith they all remembered, even for just a single moment. Well, except for the one moment with the fond little scoff, when Lance had shown up at the cell in his pajamas. 

One short second of hope over the course of almost four entire weeks, and counting. 

The memory of it kept replaying itself in Lance's mind, until eventually, one evening after dinner, he caved. 

"You wanna' come over to the hangar with us? Pidge and I were going to put together some speakers, so we could play the music from her laptop with actual quality to it," Hunk offered after they had finished eating. Lance shook his head. 

"Thanks, man, but I think I'll go and pay a visit to Keith instead." 

"Sure thing. Good luck!" Hunk gave him an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, before leaving for the hangar where he and Pidge had set up their little lab. 

Lance walked to the Galra's cell instead, idly wondering if the Galra had noticed that he hadn't shown up for a few days. Probably not. 

"Hey, Keith," Lance greeted the Galra, receiving—nothing in reply, as usual. With a sigh, Lance settled down in his niche, looking over at the purple alien across from him. 

"You really don't care at all what I do, huh," Lance muttered sullenly, going without a reply once more. "You're even worse company than you were before." 

Lance let his gaze wander over the cell and the hallway, all the bare walls around them, wondering if the Galra saw something more in them than he did. But there wasn't anything here. He didn't get how _anyone_ could do nothing but look at this scenery for weeks. 

Maybe spending the evening with Hunk and Pidge would have been smarter. At least they answered when he talked to them. And they could have listened to music. Lance really missed music. He missed Earth. 

And he missed Keith. 

Which was ridiculous, since Earth was thousands of light years away, and Keith was—for all they knew—sitting right across from him, on the other side of the space glass. If this wasn't just a Galra looking like Keith, that was. 

Well, at least Lance could do something about missing music. 

" _[When I saw her](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2WvNS8yhZo) walking down the street, she looked so fine, I just had to speak,_ " he began singing quietly, starting in the middle of the song as he'd forgotten the words of the first verse. His voice was way off key as usual, not that he cared much, he still gradually got louder. " _I asked her name, but she turned away. As she walked, all that I could say was_ —" 

The walls down here were boring, but at least the acoustics weren't too bad, Lance thought to himself as he settled into the refrain. He was bobbing along to the rhythm that he wasn't really keeping up with, repeating " _mmm mmm yeah yeah_ " as many times as he felt like, before humming along to more lines he'd forgotten the lyrics for. 

He wondered if Pidge had the song on her laptop, but probably not. He and Pidge didn't really share a taste in music. But that just meant that his version was their only, and thus, official one now. So striking the right notes really didn't matter anymore, and he sang even louder, letting his gaze wander back from the boring walls to the Galra. 

" _Mmm mmm yeah yeah, all that I could say was_ —" 

The Galra was looking at him. 

Lance cut himself off mid-" _mmm_ ", staring back with wide eyes. 

There was nothing ambiguous about this, no way it was only his wishful thinking. 

The Galra's head was turned towards him, as were the large cat-like ears. Wide yellow eyes were staring at Lance, with something that didn't look like anger at all, but more—curious? Wondering? Shocked? Lance couldn't tell, he still couldn't read the expressions on the Galra's face, and he really hated that right now, more than ever before. 

"H-hey," Lance said quietly, his voice suddenly feeling way more shaky than before. "Keith?" 

The Galra was still staring, his ears flicking down and back up once. Sharp teeth began worrying purple lips, and Lance wasn't sure, but the Galra almost looked—conflicted? 

"Is something wrong?" Lance asked carefully, wanting to shift closer and at the same time not daring to move, pinned under that intense gaze. He licked his lips nervously, his mouth feeling too dry. "Come on, Keith, don't just look at me like that. What's going on? Are you— It's really you, right? Please, talk to me?" 

Those yellow eyes were still looking right at him, and after weeks without any kind of reaction, it felt like an overwhelming pressure was suddenly placed on Lance's shoulders. 

"Okay. Okay, I—you're looking at me, and that's _something_ , so you don't. You know, you don't have to talk, if you don't want to," Lance tried, painfully aware that he was babbling, but not knowing what else to say. He forced himself to smile and couldn't help but feel like the expression didn't quite want to be on his face at the moment. "I'm really glad you're finally doing—something." 

There was a moment of silence between them. 

"A-Again?" 

The voice was quiet and rough, sounding so hesitant and unsure that the word came out more like a question than anything else. It was a sound that tore painfully at Lance's heart—and it was also, without a doubt, Keith's voice. 

Yellow eyes were still looking at him, and Lance wasn't sure if he knew how to breathe anymore. 

"It's you," the words slipped from Lance's lips. "I can't fucking believe—" 

He took a deep, shaking breath, choking down a sob, blinking against the unwanted wetness that was suddenly gathering in his eyes. 

He couldn't lose it now. This was important, _so_ important, he couldn't let this slip by like the little scoff at his face cream. He had to make sure, Keith had just _talked_ — 

Lance wasn't sure how much time had passed as he mentally broke down and tried to pull himself back together, but then there was a blink, and yellow eyes settled back on the wall next to him, _away_ from him, purple brows pinching together tightly. 

Oh, _fuck_ no. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—" Lance rushed to say, fingers twisting in his jacket nervously. He couldn't fuck this up now, couldn't ignore the first word that had been said in weeks, and here he was, doing just that. "You—'again'? You want me to—sing again? Is that it?" 

He didn't get an answer. 

Lance swallowed despite his dry mouth. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and wasn't quite sure if its fast pace was healthy for humans. This was the first _huge_ step forward, and Lance couldn't let himself fuck this up now, couldn't disappoint Keith and the rest of their team like that. 

" _When I saw her walking down the street_ ," he began singing, his voice coming out terribly scratchy. He swallowed again, kept going despite the nervousness closing up his throat. " _She looked so fine, I just had to speak. I asked her name, but she turned away_ —" Purple ears were twitching, angling towards him, and Lance got louder "— _as she walked, all that I could say was, mmm mmm yeah yeah_ —" 

Lance wasn't quite sure how often he repeated the song. 

He felt a bit ridiculous singing it over and over again, especially when he had to skip over the same lines every time because he couldn't remember the lyrics. But at the same time, there was a giddy sort of joy rising in his chest. 

Yellow eyes looked back at him, and a genuine grin stretched itself over Lance's face. He wasn't sure why his—admittedly terribly off-key—singing was what finally got him a reaction, but he didn't really care at the moment. 

This was good. 

He kept going until he couldn't stand singing _Mmm Yeah_ anymore, then moved on to _Bang Bang_ and after that every other song he could think of that had the same upbeat mood to it. 

He let his gaze wander from time to time, not wanting to ruin everything by staring continuously, until he was startled by movement right next to him. There was the sound of someone settling down. 

Then a shoulder was leaning against his, with only the space glass between them. 

Lance looked over in surprise, and Keith's yellow eyes looked back at him, just as hopeful and cautious and semi-terrified as Lance himself was feeling. 

Lance's heartbeat sped up even more, throat closing up with too much emotion, his mind trying to wrap itself around the fact that Keith was sitting _right next to him_ , and failing. 

But he kept on singing anyway. 

There was no way he would stop now, when Keith was finally _reacting_ to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry guys. This update took a while :') Things have been really busy since the new semester has started now. I really hope the next update won't take as long, though.
> 
> As it has come up now, I'm going with Pidge being a trans girl in this fic. I ddin't tag that it before, since I wasn't sure if it would explicitly come up at any point. But now it has, so.  
> I've seen lots of fics with lots of different gender headcanons for Pidge, and pretty much every assortment of pronouns. But as Pidge has stated in the series that she's a girl, that's what I'm going with here. Just in case anyone was interested in the thought behind it :')
> 
> Now that Lance has finally had his big breakthrough with Keith, things will also progress a bit faster. More plot, less "The Galra stared", y'know. I think we're all looking forward to that. Most of the plot has already been planned out, so I can promise that for the next few chapters, things will actually get better for poor Keith. Mostly.
> 
> There's no flashback this time, as you might have noticed, though we are not done with those by far. You can see that as a brilliant metaphor for how Keith is moving on from what has happened to him this chapter, or as bad planning on my part, as certain flashbacks need to happen at certain times in the current plot. Choice is yours :)
> 
> In a sudden bout of procrastination from reading scientific papers for university, I've also drawn the last scene from the chapter, which you can take a look at on my Tumblr, [here](http://onyx-stars.tumblr.com/post/152564205180/little-doodle-for-my-fic-incandence-guess-who).  
> Or you can just excitedly wait for the next chapter and leave your thoughts & feelings in the comments, if you feel like it =)


	6. Forgotten what you have and what is yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's really you, isn't it?" Shiro asked, voice rough with emotions Lance couldn't name. 
> 
> The Galra shrugged, now looking more sad than pained. One purple hand reached up, brushing against a large ear, then pressing it flat against his head. "Who knows," he murmured quietly, voice blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual shout out to [Soulie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) for being a blessing to my life as well as my beta reader!
> 
> And a huge thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments, because I thrive on feedback and it makes me so happy and motivated to write every time <3
> 
> More babbling in the back, since y'all probably want to start reading this very late chapter now...

Lance turned around halfway when he heard steps coming down the hallway behind him. 

"Hey," Hunk greeted him, only for Lance to immediately raise his finger to his lips to shush him. "What—" Hunk started, whispering now, eyes widening when he looked over at the Galra's usual spot, which was currently unoccupied. "Where—?" 

Lance pointed next to him, where—mostly out of Hunk's view—Keith was still leaning against the space glass, having fallen asleep a while ago with his head rolling to the side. _Lance's_ side. Hunk's eyes widened almost comically when he got close enough to see, gesturing wildly as he was visibly trying to contain his excitement, so that he wouldn't accidentally wake Keith up. 

"Dude— _How_?" Hunk asked in a hushed voice, awe clear on his face. 

"He really liked hearing me sing? No idea why," Lance whispered, the grin on his face feeling too big to fit. He was still shaking with giddy excitement from this unexpected success. "I'd say he prefers Nicki Minaj over 3OH!3, but I haven't wowed him with all my songs yet, so I can't determine a clear favorite." 

"No offense, dude, but— seriously _how_? Don't take this personally, but your singing is awful," Hunk asked quietly. 

Lance shrugged. "As I said, no idea. But get this," it took an immense effort to keep his voice quiet, but Lance had to _share_ this, "he _asked_ me to sing again. Like, _literally_. With words. One word." 

"Lance, this is amazing," Hunk murmured quietly, his entire face lighting up with a smile. "Everyone else already went to sleep, but I bet they'll freak out tomorrow. I mean, I'm freaking out _right now_." 

"Do it quietly," Lance chuckled proudly. "I didn't sing him to sleep just for you to wake him up." 

"I'd never," Hunk muttered, sounding dead serious and overjoyed all at once. "This is— _wow_. Do you plan on staying down here all night?" 

"Yeah, probably," Lance hummed, plastering himself closer to the space glass that was separating Keith and him. "I don't want to be gone when he wakes up, y'know?" 

"Sure, I get that," Hunk murmured, nodding slightly. "Do you want me to bring you a blanket? You'll get cold if you sit there all night." 

"Yeah. Thanks, man," Lance answered with a smile. It was really getting quite cold when he didn't move for so long. And he wouldn't dare to get up at the moment. 

"No problem," Hunk replied, chuckling softly. "I have to admit, I'm a little jealous that you got to hear him talk and I missed it. Man, I can't wait for him to wake up." 

"Mhm," Lance hummed in agreement. "You can build a statue of me or something later. I'm looking forward to it." 

"Shiro actually might," Hunk muttered jokingly. "I'll go find you a blanket now, okay? Wouldn't want to accidentally wake him up with our babbling." 

"Yeah, thanks," Lance murmured quietly, watching Hunk leave. 

 

***** 

 

Lance was woken up by a weird noise. He was tired, though, and so his course of action was to roll over onto the other side of his bed and sleep some more. 

Unfortunately, he wasn't in his bed, and when he turned away from the space glass, all that awaited him was the cold, hard floor. 

With a startled groan, he sat up, looking around in confusion—a hallway, lights dimmed as they always were during the night cycle of the ship, why was _anyone_ waking him up at this time—until he remembered where he was and why. The Galra's cell. Keith. Singing. Right. But that meant— 

There was the weird noise again. A choked off little sound that was painfully close to a whimper. Lance's gaze immediately snapped to the Galra. 

_Keith_. 

He seemed to still be asleep, eyes screwed shut, but at the same time he looked as if he was in pain. Still leaning against the wall next to Lance, Keith was curled up more tightly than usual, and his shoulders and the tips of his ears were trembling badly. 

For all Lance could tell, it looked as if he was having a nightmare. 

Lance pulled the blanket Hunk had brought him tighter around his shoulders, then shifted closer to the space glass, placing his hand on the cool, smooth surface. "Keith," he murmured softly. "Hey, Keith, wake up." 

When nothing happened, he knocked on the space glass for good measure. "Hey, Keith!" 

Yellow eyes snapped open, darting around wildly. 

"It's okay, Keith. You're on the Castle ship, with us, remember?" Lance tried, tensing slightly when wide, unfocused eyes settled on him. 

He'd been hoping that he'd be able to calm Keith down, especially after their bonding moment a few hours ago. 

He was wrong. 

The Galra scrambled back as soon as he saw Lance, baring his teeth in a snarl that sounded furious and panicked all at once. 

"Hey, no, come on. It's just me, remember?" Lance murmured, forcing himself to keep his voice soft and calm, despite the frustration that was rising up inside of him. "Do you want me to sing again? You liked that bef—" 

With a howl, the Galra charged forward, sharp claws screeching over the space glass just a few inches from Lance's face. 

"Not cool, man," Lance huffed, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "Come on, I thought we _bonded_." 

The Galra hissed at him loudly, scratching at the space glass once more, then tearing away with a furious snarl, pacing to the very back of the cell to curl up tightly and glare at Lance from there. Lance couldn't help but notice that the tips of his purple ears were still trembling. 

"I can't _believe_ you," he grumbled, feeling anger rising up in his throat. He'd thought they were finally making _progress_. Keith had sat down next to him and even talked! And now they were right back to before, or maybe somewhere even worse. "Damn it, Keith, I know it's _you_! Just tell me what—" 

He was cut off by another loud hiss. 

Lance banged his hand against the glass. " _No_ , damn it! Fucking tell me what's wrong! You were so much better before, you don't get to throw that away just because you're upset from a nightmare!" 

The Galra growled, glowering at Lance with his yellow eyes. 

A small, reasonable part of Lance's brain suggested that he should leave Keith alone for a while, give both of them some time to calm down. But Lance had gotten _so far_ before, he couldn't walk away from this now. 

He began singing, even more off-key than usual because of the tight knot of emotion in his chest. " _When I saw her walking down the street_ —" 

A loud growl from the Galra cut him off, and Lance stopped. 

"Fuck you!" he cursed, hitting the space glass again. "What _is_ it with you? Four weeks just to get you to talk, and now you don't like this anymore, either? What the hell do you want?" 

The Galra hissed at him, still glaring. Lance glared right back. His eyes felt uncomfortably wet, but he didn't care. 

"I thought we were getting somewhere," he went on, voice cracking badly and throat feeling too tight. But all of this had been building inside of him for a while now, so he kept going, getting louder. "Do you even _want_ to get better? You're only sitting in there all day, not reacting no matter _what_ we try, and now the _one thing_ that worked isn't good enough anymore, either? We're trying to help you, Keith. But you need to fucking tell us what you need, or you'll just have to sit in that stupid cell forever!" He was yelling at the end, banging against the space glass again. 

He got no reply. 

Lance slumped forward, having to take a deep breath after his outburst. His shoulders were shaking, his chest felt way too tight, and when he tried to blink away the wetness in his eyes, he only made it worse and the first tears began to fall. 

They really were right back to before, huh? Keith was just going to be like this forever. 

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed sharply, wiping at his eyes. "I just— We all really miss you, Keith. Why won't you let us help you? Why won't you talk to us? All you have to do is tell us what you need. Please." 

He was met by silence. The Galra was still glaring at him, and Lance— 

Lance didn't know what to _do_ anymore. This way, they were never going to get Keith back. _Their_ Keith. Any version of him. 

Then, very slowly, the Galra uncurled. Not by much, just enough that Lance could see his chest over his knees, and he was still glaring at Lance with an eerie intensity—but it was _something_. 

Lance hardly dared to breathe, only sniffling quietly. 

The Galra placed his hand high on his own chest, then brushed it over his shoulder. 

"Okay, no, now you've lost me," Lance muttered, dumbfounded, not sure what he was supposed to do. All he knew was that he couldn't fuck this up and risk Keith going back to the glare-and-ignore routine. 

The Galra's eyes narrowed in anger, and he repeated the movement. 

"You're— Your shoulder hurts?" Lance tried, but received no reply. He huffed, rubbing over his eyes in mild frustration, now that the tears had dried up. "I know you can talk, why do we have to play charade for this?" 

Yellow eyes glared at him, and Lance watched helplessly as the Galra began to curl up tighter again. 

"Okay, no no no no no, wait. Give me a second here, I'll figure it out, okay?" he hurried to say, brows furrowing as he gave it his best. "You want me to— You're trying to tell me something? Is it some place where—where they hurt you? Are you in pain? Sore? Do you want—" 

Lance imitated the motion as he thought about it, fingers catching on the blanket and brushing it off his shoulder. He shivered at the unexpectedly cold air. Then blinked as realization hit him. "You want me to not use the blanket? You want me to be _cold_? Seriously?" 

The Galra didn't say anything, but his purple ears perked up. 

"I can't believe you're making progress just so you can be mean to me," Lance grumbled in exasperation, but grabbed the blanket anyway to drop it next to the cell, out of Keith's sight. "There, that better?" 

The Galra was still glaring slightly, but his shoulders began to lower, lips closing over previously bared fangs. 

Lance sighed deeply. "Wow, great. I mean, no idea why you want me to catch a cold down here, but I'm glad we could settle that." 

He got no reply, but shrugged it off. "Can we go back to sleep now?" he asked, trying to get comfortable in his niche without the blanket. "I mean— if you're fine with that?" 

Keith looked at him for a moment longer, then shuffled over to lie down on his mattress, turning away so his back was facing Lance. 

Lance glared at his stupid mullet and the huge purple ears, sticking out his tongue at him. He wasn't sure if that counted when Keith didn't see it and he himself was secretly brimming with joy on the inside that things seemed to be better again. 

But still, he couldn't remember Keith being that much of an asshole to him before. Lying down on that nice, comfy mattress and not even allowing Lance his one measly blanket? That was mean. 

 

***** 

 

The universe apparently didn't want Lance to get his eight hours of beauty sleep, because next thing he knew, he was woken up _again_. This time, it was because of loud steps running towards them. 

"Huh?" Lance muttered, the question half-swallowed by a long yawn. He sat up, wincing at how sore his neck felt. That niche was really not suited for spending a whole night there. 

The steps slowed down just before reaching them, and Lance sleepily blinked up at Shiro. 

"He talked?" Shiro asked, sounding winded. Lance had to look away simply because so soon after waking up, he couldn't stand how hopeful and torn their leader looked. 

He glanced over to the cell instead, where Keith had apparently gotten out of bed at some point, because he was back to sitting curled up in his usual spot at the left wall. The one big difference being that now, he was definitely looking at them. 

"Yeah, he did," Lance finally remembered to answer, looking back at Keith with a fair amount of fascination. 

After that little debacle during the night, things seemed to be pretty good this morning. After all, Keith was _not_ ignoring them. 

"Keith," Shiro said, voice trembling slightly as he placed his human hand against the glass. "It's really you?" 

"He only said one word yesterday. I'm not sure if he'll talk," Lance pointed out quickly, not wanting to get Shiro's hopes up high and then shatter them again. "But yeah, it's definitely him." 

Shiro nodded slowly, looking as if he could barely believe it. 

Lance shifted uncomfortably, wondering if maybe he should leave. Keith was finally looking at them, and Lance didn't want to miss out on that or accidentally ruin it. 

But this seemed like a very personal moment for Shiro, and Lance didn't want to intrude on that. 

On the other hand, Keith was finally _acknowledging_ them, gaze sliding from Lance to Shiro, ears flicking up and down almost shyly as he worried his lower lip. It was more movement than Lance had seen in the entire week before yesterday. 

"Hunk mentioned that you were singing to him?" Shiro asked, not averting his gaze from Keith to give Lance as much as a single glance. 

"Yeah. He seems to like Nicki Minaj a lot," Lance hummed, getting to his feet, arching his back until it popped. He was _so_ sore. Ouch. 

Shiro nodded, though he did look a little confused. "I didn't even know he listened to that. I— thank you, Lance." 

Now he did look at Lance. Lance preened a little under the gratitude rolling off of their leader. 

"You can thank me by getting Hunk to agree that my singing is amazing," he joked, slowly taking a step back, despite the twinge in his chest as Keith was no longer in his field of view. "I'll give the two of you some—privacy." 

Shiro nodded, that grateful expression still on his face, though he did look a little sad at the same time. 

Lance took another step back, then— 

"Shiro." 

—stopped dead. 

That wasn't his voice. That wasn't Shiro talking to himself, either. 

" _Keith_ ," Shiro breathed, eyes wide. "You remember me?" 

Lance stepped forward just enough to peek into the cell and catch the way Keith's expression scrunched up into something pained. 

Shiro faltered slightly, but went on anyway. "It's really you, isn't it?" he asked, voice rough with emotions Lance couldn't name. 

The Galra shrugged, now looking more sad than pained. One purple hand reached up, brushing against a large ear, then pressing it flat against his head. "Who knows," he murmured quietly, voice blank. 

Lance wasn't sure if he was ready for this much progress this fast. His heart didn't seem to be, seeing as it was hammering away in his chest at an uncomfortably fast pace. 

He also wasn't sure if it was happiness closing up his throat or something else. He'd struggled for weeks, and had been singing for hours just to get a single word from Keith, and now all Shiro had to do was show up, and he got Keith to say his name and so much more? 

Lance had known that Shiro's and Keith's relationship was special, and he was happy about every bit of progress Keith made, but it still stung uncomfortably. 

Damn it, he couldn't be so selfish when Keith was finally getting _better_. 

So he readied himself to quietly slink away just as planned, but stopped when Shiro moved first. Moved to place his hand on the scanning pad next to the cell, to be more precise. 

"Shiro, what are you—" Lance yelped, catching the way the Galra's eyes widened in shock and feeling much the same, but Shiro looked determined and the space glass was already sliding to the side, opening up at the left side of the cell. 

The Galra was on his feet instantly, flexing his claws and hissing loudly. Lance wasn't sure if he felt disappointed by that kind of reaction or relieved that the Galra wasn't attacking Shiro immediately. 

Shiro seemed wary, but raised his hands in a placating manner. "Keith, please, calm down. It's just me. I— You remember me, right? We know it's _you_ now. You don't have to stay in here anymore. You're not our prisoner." Shiro took a tentative step forward, whereas Lance still felt rooted to the ground, not sure what he _could_ have even done. 

Taking another step forward, Shiro held out his left hand. "We're your friends, remembe—" 

" _No!_ " 

The shrill scream had Lance flinching, and Shiro was shrinking back as well. 

"Keith, please—" Shiro tried once more, but the Galra threw himself forward with a loud snarl, claws swiping for Shiro's throat. Blocking the attack with his cybernetic arm out of reflex, Shiro stumbled back, eyes wide with shock and what might or might not have been him having a flashback. Lance really hoped it wasn't a flashback. Things were already bad enough. 

"Get the hell out of there!" Lance yelled at Shiro, lurching forward to the scanning panel. 

Shiro didn't move for one terrifying second, then reacted reflexively when the Galra attacked again, barely blocking sharp claws from tearing through vulnerable flesh. 

"Shiro!" Lance called desperately, grabbing the back of the black paladin's vest to drag him back. He was well aware that he could hardly make Shiro move against his will, but it seemed to be enough to snap the black paladin out of whatever stupor he'd been caught in. Shiro staggered backwards, and as soon as he was out of the cell, Lance hit his hand on the scanning pad. 

The Galra didn't try to get past the space glass as it slid closed, but howled furiously, baring his teeth. 

Shiro didn't look good. There were a few deep scratches on his human arm, but he didn't seem to be aware of the injuries at all. He was pale and shaking slightly, still staring at the Galra with wide eyes and a tortured expression. 

"Keith," he muttered dejectedly, voice barely there. 

" _No!_ " the Galra screamed again, claws scraping over where the space glass was now separating them once more. 

Shiro and Lance both flinched back. 

"I— I think we should leave him alone for a while," Lance murmured quietly, not daring to raise his voice louder than what was absolutely necessary. He didn't miss how the Galra's furious glare snapped over to him. 

Shiro seemed frozen, still staring at the Galra. When Lance reached out, carefully brushing his fingers over the back of Shiro's human hand, the black paladin finally tore his gaze away. He gave Lance a tense nod, and together they walked away from the cell. 

Lance couldn't help but think that it felt like retreat. 

 

***** 

 

Breakfast was a huge affair. Everyone was there—even the mice—and had already been briefed by Hunk about Lance's tremendous breakthrough the evening before. 

But when Shiro and Lance slunk in with dejected expressions, Shiro all scratched up, the mood immediately went from 'expectantly joyful' to 'worried and disappointed'. 

Just a few hours before, Lance had been looking forward to telling the team all about what his singing had accomplished, but now he hated every second of his story. The team's smiles were thin and frail when he told them about Keith talking, since they were already aware that something went horribly wrong later on. One only had to look at Shiro, who was sitting stiff as a statue, expression haunted and utterly devastated. 

Once Lance was done with retelling everything that had happened, he was more than surprised when Hunk firmly clapped him on the back. 

"Wow, that's _great_!" The yellow paladin called out, his voice louder and more cheerful than Lance could comprehend. 

"He just tried to murder Shiro. Again," he pointed out dryly. Why the hell Hunk seemed so happy was beyond him. 

"And that's bad, I agree. _But_ ," Hunk pulled Lance close against his side, making sure he had the attention of everyone gathered at the table, "now we know for sure it's him! No more wondering. And you got him to talk and sit next to you! That's _huge_! I mean, sure, things went sideways after that, but that doesn't take away from what you accomplished before!" 

"I appreciate your optimism, but we probably just ruined everything again," Lance muttered dejectedly, glancing over at Shiro who was still just sitting there, shell-shocked. 

"He disliked you entering his cell, but that's no reason to give up," Allura spoke up. "It's just one more thing we know now. We will keep it in mind and move forward from here." 

"Still, we shouldn't keep him in that cell," Shiro spoke up, voice rough. Lance looked over at their leader with worry. It was obvious how much Shiro disliked—all of this. "Taking him there was only supposed to be a temporary solution, because we didn't know if it was really Keith, and he kept attacking us. We know it's him now. We shouldn't be the ones locking him up, after everything he's been through at the hands of the Galra." 

"Though he _is_ still attacking you, isn't he?" Coran supplied unhelpfully. 

"We still don't have a clue what the Galra did to him," Pidge pointed out, worrying her lower lip. "And the room where we found him didn't look like a cell at all. It was too large, and there were no chains or anything else." Her brows furrowed as she looked off to the side, deep in thought. Lance was just about to ask her what was bothering her when Shiro spoke again. 

"It definitely wasn't _good_. He hasn't talked for the past month and doesn't seem to really—remember us, he still lashes out with every intention to kill. And he looks like—them." Shiro looked pained at his last sentence. 

"Maybe this time he lashed out because you opened the cell?" Hunk suggested timidly, shrinking down a little when everyone looked at him. 

"I was trying to let him _out_ ," Shiro pointed out flatly, a hard look in his eyes. 

"Yeah, but," Hunk murmured, fidgeting uncomfortably. "You _opened_ the cell. And while they had him, that probably always meant something—bad? I—I mean—didn't it? F—For you?" 

"Of course it did. I'm well aware of that," Shiro muttered, expression tight as he looked down at his cybernetic arm. "But—he knew it was me." 

"Maybe it was just too much at once?" Lance tried for a bit of optimism. "My blanket really freaked him out, too, and I still have no idea why. We still don't have all his triggers down, so I guess we're bound to stumble into a few more. But then we can learn from that. And be cold and stay out of the cell for now." 

"And let's not forget how much we just gained," Allura reminded them. "Just yesterday at this time, we still weren't sure if he could talk, or react with something other than aggression, or if it was even him at all. Despite the setbacks, this was a huge step forward." 

"Yeah, now that he talks and reacts, I'm sure it'll be a lot easier to help him," Pidge joined in, a small smile on her lips. 

"But, guys and gals, most importantly," Lance spoke up loudly, leaning back in his chair, "don't forget that all this happened thanks to my angelic singing." 

"Urgh," Hunk huffed, grimacing. "I'm still half-convinced he only reacted to get you to stop yowling. Poor guy probably thought you were dying." 

"Hunk, you are a terrible best friend," Lance muttered, giving his fellow paladin a sour look and crossing his arms. 

Hunk just smiled at him innocently. "Well, I for my part am very excited to find out how he'll react to someone who can _actually_ sing." 

Lance stuck out his tongue at him, then did the same to Pidge when she began snickering. They were horrible friends. All of them. 

But when Hunk asked Allura if Alteans had something similar to guitars, Pidge offered up the music library on her laptop, and Shiro said he might recall some of Keith's favorite songs—Lance had to admit that he was actually curious what would happen. 

Would they finally be able to help Keith now? 

 

***** 

 

Going back to the cell was nerve-wracking. 

Shiro had opted out of being the one to go, and Lance understood why. Meeting again so soon after the pre-breakfast disaster might be too much for the Galra as well as for Shiro. 

The Alteans got hissed at every time they showed up, and they all had their doubts if that had magically changed now that Keith had said a few words. So they were out of the question as well. 

Pidge had just calmly looked at Hunk and Lance and reminded them that they had been the ones to sit with and talk to the Galra for the past month, whereas she had only tried for a few days. 

So despite the fact that he felt nervous enough to almost throw up his breakfast goo all over the place, Lance was now heading down the hallway to the cell, a bowl with goo in his hands, Hunk right next to him, carrying a 'guitar'. It was the result of almost an hour of fighting the Castle's fabricator, the shape closer to that of a banjo and its color as green as the food goo. It looked a little strange, but had sounded nice enough when Hunk had played a few chords. 

When the space glass came into sight, the Galra still hidden behind the wall, Lance quietly started rapping _Gasolina_. Hunk raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but Lance just shrugged and kept going. It helped him settle his nerves, and he hoped that it would keep Keith from freaking out after their last meeting. 

" _[A ella le gusta la gasolina](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9BIX9akkh4)_ ," he hummed, pointing at Hunk while balancing the bowl in one hand and smiling proudly when Hunk joined in as background voice with " _dame mas gasolina_ ", just like they had done so long ago, back at the Garrison. So many months ago, when Lance had searched for every bit of music with Spanish lyrics, as those were the only songs he could sing better than Hunk. Poor guy just wasn't capable of rolling his 'r's. 

It felt like a whole other life now. 

Lance was tense when they came close enough to look into the cell, still rapping and almost stumbling over his words when he finally dared to look inside. 

Keith was curled up in his usual spot. And looking at them. 

It seemed that Hunk was even more fascinated by that than Lance, because he totally missed his next turn and left Lance hanging. Lance could relate, though. Having Keith's calm attention after a whole month of waiting was—something else. 

"Dude, I can't believe it," Hunk muttered quietly, a wide grin stretched over his face as he knelt down in front of the space glass. "Hey, Keith. I'm so glad to see you." 

Lance was incredibly proud of himself for seeing how the Galra's gaze shifted down to the ground for a moment, then back up to them. He was really getting the hang of those yellow eyes, despite their lack of pupils. 

"Sorry we're so late with breakfast. Hunk had a fight with the fabricator to get a guitar. So we can play more songs for you, you know?" Lance explained, sliding the bowl with goo into the cell. 

"I am so sorry that you had to hear Lance sing," Hunk tacked on, earning a glare from Lance. 

"My singing is not _that_ bad," he huffed defensively. 

"Yes, it is." 

"Is not!" 

"It really is. I'm sorry, buddy." 

"I will revoke your best friend status, Hunk! I'll find a new best friend who properly appreciates my singing. Like Keith!" Lance proudly gestured towards the Galra, who had snatched up the bowl during their short squabble and was now eating, yellow eyes still fixed on them. Lance had never before enjoyed someone's attention so much. 

"I'm still not sure if I believe your story that he actually asked you to _keep_ singing," Hunk muttered with a slight frown, shaking his head. 

Lance stuck out his tongue at him. 

"But," Hunk went on, giving Keith a warm smile, "I'm here now to play actual music for you. In case you want that? The others are all looking into stuff, too. We're just all very glad that you're finally talking again." 

Keith shifted, curling up tighter than before, ears drooping. 

"No pressure, though!" Hunk added hurriedly, waving his hands. "We're always here to listen as soon as you feel ready to talk about—anything, really. But you can take things slow. One step at a time and all that." 

Purple ears perked back up, and Lance gave a sigh of relief. He really hoped that they wouldn't accidentally make things worse again, but doing so happened easily. There was just no telling what would set Keith off into a fit of rage and what wouldn't. 

"And until then, we will keep entertaining you with our beautiful singing," he hummed, grinning proudly. 

Hunk nodded in agreement, shuffling away from the space glass to have enough room to play the weird green guitar. He played a few chords and they both carefully gauged Keith's reaction—neutral expression, perked up ears, no sudden growling, that was good—and then Hunk began playing. 

It started with _Over the Rainbow_ , Hunk singing along quietly and not at all off-key, and that was followed up by other calm, soothing songs. Lance was worried for a moment, since it was quite different from the trashy party songs he had sung before. But Keith didn't seem to mind. 

In fact, the Galra was slowly shuffling closer to them, expression relaxed and open. 

At some point during Hunk's rendition of _[Safe and Sound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzh9AmV9Nq8)_ , Keith leant against the space glass and gave Lance an almost expectant look. Lance could barely contain his smile as he shuffled closer to lean in on the other side, mirroring their position from the evening before. Excitedly, he gestured for Hunk to join them, which wasn't quite as easy with the guitar taking up room and Hunk refusing to stop singing or playing. Eventually, he was sitting perpendicular to Lance, one of Lance's legs thrown over Hunk's crossed ones. 

It wasn't the most comfortable position, but they had no complaints. Both Hunk and Lance were grinning widely, and Keith seemed more content than at any other time since they had found him. 

Lance wasn't sure if minutes or hours had passed when he looked to his side and realized that Keith had fallen asleep at some point. 

"Damn it," he whispered, cutting off Hunk's singing. 

"What is it?" Hunk asked, a worried frown on his face. 

"He fell asleep again." 

Hunk took a closer look at Keith. "Mhm. Seems like Pidge was right when she said that he looked tired." 

"Yeah, but last time he woke up, he completely lost it," Lance muttered quietly. 

"Ah, the blanket incident?" Hunk asked in a hushed voice. 

Lance nodded. "He was pretty freaked out by a nightmare—I think. But he calmed down when I got rid of the blanket, so something about it must've really rubbed him the wrong way." 

"Maybe he'll tell us, eventually," Hunk murmured, shuffling out from under Lance's leg. "Ugh, I think my legs fell asleep." 

"Are you leaving?" Lance asked, craning back his head as his friend got up. 

"Yeah. Wouldn't want to accidentally wake him up," Hunk explained, wincing as he stretched out his legs. "You going to stay?" 

"Mhm," Lance hummed with a nod. "I've learnt my lesson with the blanket. So I hope I can help him calm down when he wakes up, this time. If—If he needs it, I mean." 

"Sure," Hunk murmured with a warm smile. "I'll go to the kitchen and see if I can find us something other than green goo for lunch. And tell the others not to come barging down here for a while." 

"Thanks." Lance gave his friend a grateful smile, waving after him as he wandered off. 

Once Hunk was gone, all his attention settled back on Keith, who looked peaceful enough. For the moment at least. 

But Pidge really had been right—even asleep Keith still managed to look tired. Lance couldn't help but wonder if Hunk's suspicion was correct and it was nightmares that were keeping Keith awake at night. 

 

***** 

 

Lance might or might not have dozed off at some point, but he instantly snapped back to awareness when he heard a noise. 

Another one of those heart-wrenching whimpers. 

He looked to the side, seeing Keith's face all scrunched up in pain and fear and anger, purple ears trembling, and instantly started knocking against the space glass. "Keith! Hey, Keith," he hissed, then, remembering the disaster when he'd woken Keith up last time, he quickly switched strategies. 

He kept knocking, but also began to sing quietly. For a moment, he couldn't decide whether he should go with his own upbeat party songs or Hunk's soft, reassuring ones. But with Keith's distressed expression, something loud seemed out of the question, so Lance went for _[King](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEeOLYwiTz8)_ —or however much of the song he remembered. 

" _You're alone, you're on your own, so what? Have you gone blind? Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?—_ " 

He desperately hoped for the best when yellow eyes snapped wide open. 

Keith's chest was heaving wildly as he scrambled for a moment, going completely still when he saw Lance, ears flicking wildly. 

" _—You can reclaim your throne. You're in control, rid of the monsters inside your head—_ " Lance kept singing softly, voice a little shaky, and tried for a smile. 

Keith simply stared at him for a long moment, still panting, eyes wide and frightened, shining wetly. Then he suddenly jumped to his feet and darted into the bathroom, the door swishing shut behind him. 

"Keith?" Lance called after him, concerned, leaning against the space glass. 

He got no reply. It was suspiciously quiet, no sound coming from the bathroom. Lance felt awfully tempted to open the cell and take a look inside, just to make sure Keith was alright. 

But they had officially decided not to venture into the cell anymore for now, and he doubted that Keith would react well to it. He'd probably just try to claw Lance's face off. 

"Hey, Keith? Are you okay?" he tried again, listening anxiously for a reply. 

After calling out a few more times and getting nothing, he gave up. 

"I'm gonna' take that as your version of 'I'd like to have a moment to myself', okay? I'm going to leave now and come back later to check on you," he stated, loud enough that Keith would hear him. 

Once more, he got no answer. 

With a deep sigh, he slunk away from the cell, not really sure if he'd made the right choice or not. 

He just had to hope for the best and try again later. 

 

***** 

 

 **{{{**

He was in his cell again. 

Keith wasn't sure when it had become _his_ cell instead of just _a_ cell they were keeping him in. He wasn't sure when this cell had become a comfort to him, either. 

It was dark and cold, and he could only sit half curled up with his wrists hanging above his knees, chained to the wall. But as long as he was in here, they weren't torturing him. 

There was pain radiating through his entire body. The simple act of breathing in was so excruciating it made his eyes water with pain, and his headache felt as if his skull was going to burst. 

But it was still better than Rovik cutting into his flesh, better than the masked alien sending flashes made of pure agony through his body, better than all the others whose faces Keith couldn't remember, only the pain they had carved into his bones. 

He knew he should sleep, but it felt impossible. So did staying awake. He knew it didn't matter much — he would pass out sooner or later anyway. 

He let his eyes slip shut, head lolling back. 

He just had to hold on long enough. They were coming for him. He couldn't allow himself to doubt that. They would _come_ — 

Loud noises outside his cell startled him out of his doze. There was shouting, blasting, the sounds of fighting— Could it really be—? 

Filled with a sudden, nervous energy, Keith tried to get up, immediately regretting it when pain raced through most parts of his body. 

A moment later, the door was kicked open, and Keith had to squint against the bright light falling inside, unable to make out more than the silhouette of someone running into the room. 

"Keith! Keith, can you stand?" someone asked, and Keith struggled for a moment to place the voice. 

A tight knot loosened in his chest, and embarrassing as it might be, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. "Shiro," he breathed, looking up at his friend, all decked out in the black paladin armor. 

"Don't worry, Keith. The others are right behind me. We'll get you out of here," Shiro murmured, hand reaching up and squeezing Keith's shoulder, reassuring him and calming him down. 

Keith nodded gratefully. "You sure took your sweet time finding me," he teased, his voice coming out a little faint. 

"I'm sorry. We did the best we could," Shiro apologized. He made no move to start freeing Keith of his chains, and that was a bit odd, but Keith was sure Shiro had his reasons. Even though at this point, he wanted nothing more than to get out of here. Shiro gave him an encouraging smile, though his face was mostly hidden beneath the helmet's visor. "Is there anything you miss most about our base?" 

"The bed," Keith immediately replied, not even having to think about it. "The goo. At this point, I even miss Lance's stupid jokes." It was nice to think back to the castle, despite the way it made his headache intensify. He wondered if Red was missing him. Could lions miss their pilots? Did they get attached to people? Blue had called out to him in the desert, despite being Lance's lion. But Red seemed far more picky than that. 

It was hard to focus on one thought when he was so thirsty and tired. He couldn't even properly talk to Shiro, damn it. 

"What else?" Shiro asked, a warm smile on his lips as he gave Keith's shoulder another squeeze. Keith almost expected it to sting, since he was pretty sure something vaguely resembling acid had eaten into his flesh there just a few hours ago. 

"The healing pods? I miss all of it, Shiro," he murmured tiredly. He didn't understand why Shiro was wasting time on small talk when they were still on the Galra's ship. "Where are the others? When are we going to leave?" he asked impatiently. He wanted to go home. He was so ready to leave this place behind. 

He wanted to see all of them again. Hunk and Lance and Pidge and Allura and Coran. He missed spending time with them, their training, goofing off, complaining about food goo together. 

His headache flared up even more, like searing metal pushing into his brain, and it was painful enough to make him whimper. 

"It's okay, Keith," Shiro murmured. Keith felt him squeezing his shoulder. "We'll have you out of here soon." 

Something didn't feel right. 

Why was Shiro wasting so much time on a Galra ship? Shiro hated the Galra. He was still barely dealing with the trauma of being their prisoner for a whole year, suffering through intense flashbacks when he saw them. Shiro should be more than eager to grab him and get the hell out of here. 

And why were the others taking so long? Allura and Coran were most likely staying back on the Castle, defending it and attacking from there, but Hunk, Pidge, and Lance should be on board of the Galra ship as well. Pidge maybe sneaking into a control room somewhere, wreaking havoc on the system and the Galra from there, but Lance and Hunk would be in direct fights for sure. 

Hunk was an offensive force to be reckoned with, and was surely beside himself with worry since one of them had been taken. Maybe even feeling guilty that he hadn't been taken prisoner instead of Keith, though Keith was glad that he'd managed to hide Hunk's unconscious body beneath some debris and then lure the Galra away, back when it had happened. Hunk had been on the very front and all too impatient back when Shay had been captured, so why was he taking so long now? 

And Lance. Okay, admittedly Lance never seemed too fond of him, regarding Keith a rival more than anything else. But he also had a big heart and despite Lance's insistence on the contrary, they'd _had_ a few bonding moments. Lance wouldn't just laze around when it came to saving Keith. 

Right? 

His headache flared once more, a tugging sensation, and Keith gasped in pain. 

This was getting too weird. Too weird, too weird, to weird... 

"Keith, calm down," Shiro's steady voice reassured him. Keith felt his shoulder being squeezed. His corroded skin still didn't sting. "Everything is fine, I'm here now. Just talk to me until the others get here." 

There weren't even any sounds of fighting. This wasn't right. 

Something was wrong. 

"Keith, tell me more?" Shiro asked again, squeezing his shoulder. It didn't hurt. It felt like every other time Shiro had done it, back before Keith had been captured. Like it always did in his memories. 

But it couldn't be— 

_Nothing but memories._

There were new tears burning in Keith's eyes now, though for an entirely different reason. 

It couldn't be. 

This wasn't Shiro. 

None of this was real. 

"Go away," Keith hissed weakly, slumping forward as all his strength left him. "You're not Shiro. I'm not going to tell you anything." 

"Keith, what are you talking about?" Shiro asked with a worried expression. "Of course I'm Shiro. You have to be very exhausted." 

Keith shook his head. "Go away," he repeated, "stop taunting me with his face!" 

The real Shiro wouldn't be like this. The real Shiro would take him seriously— 

"You might be feeling like it's hopeless right now, and I'm sorry we took so long, but we're here now, I swear—" 

The real Shiro would be more concerned, after having suffered through being a Galra prisoner himself— 

"—they must have really hurt you. I know, it happened to me, too, but they won't do it anymore. The whole team is here for you, we were all so worried about you, you're our team mate—" 

They were more than team mates, Shiro had been there for him for years before the Kerberos Mission, Shiro was the closest thing to family he had— 

"—you're like a brother to me, Keith, come on, it's me—" 

But Shiro had never called him that. Keith had always wondered if Shiro had felt as close to him, since Shiro had family and no reason to get as attached as Keith did, and now there was something digging in his head, digging, digging, _digging_ — 

"—I'm sorry I never said it out loud, but you're important to me, Keith. Please." Shiro squeezed his shoulder. It didn't hurt. 

Keith pushed forward despite the pain, a harsh sob ripping from his chest. "Go away!" He screamed. "I don't believe you! Get out of my head!" 

Shiro looked at him, sad and concerned and as if Keith had slapped him in the face. 

_No_ , Keith wouldn't fall for it, wouldn't give this awful mockery of his friend any more to leech off of. 

A moment later, Shiro went up in nothing but smoke. The light inside Keith's cell disappeared. The door was closed once again. 

His terrible headache lessened to a dull thud. 

Keith curled forward as much as he could with his arms chained up as high as they were. Something wet rolled down his nose, dripping onto his knees. He breathed in wetly, all of the air rushing back out with a strangled sob. 

* 

He didn't dare think of his team coming to his rescue again. He didn't want to suffer through another illusion like that. Didn't know if he could stand it. 

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams as I fall back down into the hellscape of 2004 song fics*  
> Honestly, I don't even know why I put in those links anymore, since they always stop singing after like two lines :') But truth be told, I've wanted to slip the song 'King' in here for a while now, since a lot of the lyrics fit the current situation really well. Glad I finally got to do that.
> 
> Also, I want to mention that I take great joy in sneaking in really well-hidden clues about what's going to happen like, five chapters from now. I know that none of you are going to catch them, but it's still fun.
> 
> It's also so good to finally get Shiro in here! So far, everything except the flashbacks has been from Lance's POV, and that means that a lot of how Shiro, Allura and Coran feel about the situation doesn't really come up, since they don't talk to him about it. There's going to be more of Shiro and Keith in the next chapter, though, and I'm really looking forward to that.
> 
> And the illusions finally came up! Poor Keith. Those illusions are, of course, a huge factor in why he is so slow to trust the team now. And they don't even know (yet). But before you guys relax, that's not even the worst that's going to happen to him. There is still so much more to come. Imagine me cackling sinisterly like a Disney villain here.
> 
> Also, yeah, this update is very late, I'm sorry. I've actually had this chapter ready for like a month, but wanted to write ahead since there is so much going to happen now that Keith is doing stuff, and I have a bit of trouble organizing all of it. Also the new pokemon games kept me busy, and DnD, and also I signed up for a seminar last minute, which I had to do a paper and presentation on PTSD for and that was an awful lot of work. If any of you are wondering if I'll be shamelessly using this newly acquired PTSD knowledge for writing Shiro— yes, I'll most definitely do that :)  
> Updating is probably going to be slow, since I still have a ton of work to get done by next week, but I plan on writing a lot over winter break. So I'm just going to promise you guys that the next chapter won't take me longer than a month, and hope I can actually stick to that. So, uh, happy holidays in advance or something. Love to everyone who's stuck with this fic so far <3


	7. You are a stranger here, why have you come?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least there was one word that they could get Keith to say fairly easily—and with a lot of inflections, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is once again from 'Who are you, really?' by Mikky Ekko
> 
> [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) gets the usual big thank you for beta reading this chapter and motivating me to write <3
> 
> Second big thank you goes out to all of you who continue to leave kudos and comments (I'm so alive every time you do, thank you guys, so much, seriously, especially the ones who are trying to guess what's going on. You're all wrong, it's not druid capes, but I have shrieked with joy for like an hour that you thought about it at all). Just, thanks in general for reading this <3

Now that Keith was finally talking to them—sometimes—, Lance was even more determined than before to help their friend.

Unfortunately, Keith didn't seem to share that sentiment.

"Keeeiiiiiiith. Come on, man. Why aren't you answering me?" Lance whined, perhaps a little bit overly dramatical with the way he slumped against the space glass.

Keith was looking at him, and that was all good and great—but he also made no move to answer.

Lance sighed, throwing up his hands in frustration. "You can be so infuriating sometimes, I swear to God!" he grumbled sullenly, glaring at the Galra. "I mean, I get that you need time and all, but would it really cost you to give a simple 'yes' or 'no' sometimes? You know, absolutely nothing bad can come from you answering a question like 'How are you today?'! You could at least nod or shake your head!"

Keith just looked at him. At this point, Lance was willing to bet that the other was secretly enjoying himself by annoying him like this. _Let's see how long we can ignore Lance until he snaps._ Very funny. Ha ha.

"The others still haven't built me a temple or composed songs of praise for finally getting you to do _something_. So, you know, you'll have to make more progress, until they finally acknowledge how great I am," Lance kept going, hoping that would get him somewhere. "Alternatively, your next breakthrough could happen because of Hunk. I'm the only one who bet on him getting through to you next, when pretty much everyone else went for Shiro, so the odds would be great. I'd win a lot of—whatever space candy we might come across in the future. We didn't really have anything to bet with so far, sadly. But please consider that? I'd even share it with you."

Keith blinked, absolutely unimpressed. Lance stuck out his tongue at him.

"Just so you know, I plan on getting you to talk at least once per day. So you'll get more used to it," Lance explained then. "I mean, you talked to Shiro just fine. I just don't get why you won't talk to me? I can send Shiro down here, if that's what you want?"

Lance kept his expression carefully blank at the offer, even though making it didn't sit well with him. Shiro didn't spend nearly as much time at the cell as Lance did, so the thought of the black paladin getting Keith to open up instead of him—he didn't like it. At all. Maybe he was a little jealous. So _what_.

For what it was worth, Keith didn't reply to this offer, either.

 

*****

 

At least there was one word that they could get Keith to say fairly easily—and with a lot of inflections, too.

"No," Keith said blankly, when they offered him his old clothes once more.

"No," he choked out, sounding almost panicked, when they asked him if he maybe wanted to go to the training deck or just move for once.

"No," he hissed defensively when Pidge offered to take another look at the collar and see if she could get it off.

"No," he growled when Hunk asked if he would be okay with them working up to someone coming into the cell.

And "No!" he all but screeched when Lance suggested mind melding once more.

Lance supposed that was progress, too. Saying 'no' _did_ come with the added benefit of Keith trying to attack them a lot less often.

*

"Do you want to tell us about what they did to you? Some day, I mean? Just so we can understand and do our best not to accidentally remind you?" Lance asked him a few days later.

Keith stared at him, curling up even tighter, ears pressing flat against his purple-tinted mullet. "No," he murmured quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't—"

He broke off. No matter what Lance tried over the next few hours, he couldn't get Keith to say anything else on the matter.

 

*****

 

Days passed. Lance usually managed his quota of getting Keith to talk at least once—and _yes, Pidge_ , that totally counted, even if it usually was just a simple "no"—and life went on peacefully on the Castle ship.

So peaceful, in fact, that the next day over breakfast Allura announced to everyone that they would no longer take things slow. Ever since finding Keith, they had mostly been floating through space aimlessly, avoiding fights rather than seeking them out or freeing planets from the Galra. And while Keith was by no means back in fighting condition and Voltron nowhere near reality, they still had four functioning Lions and the Castle.

"We know Keith has been making progress recently," Allura went on explaining, "and I'm hopeful that he'll be able to pilot the Red Lion again. But we have been taking things easy for far too long now, and we can't ignore the needs of the universe anymore."

"So what is our plan of action?" Shiro asked, ever the responsible leader. "Are there any planets or people nearby that need our help?"

"There are people _everywhere_ in need of our help," Allura pointed out. "But it has been brought to my attention that—" She broke off, gesturing towards Pidge.

The green paladin took a deep breath as the collective attention shifted towards her, sitting up a little straighter. "My program was able to find Keith," she started, voice a little shaky, fingers twisting nervously. "So I thought that maybe, if we get to one of the main information hubs, I might be able to—to get a lead on my family."

She looked at everyone, shoulders tense, lips pressed together tightly. Lance swallowed and hesitantly nodded in support of the idea, Hunk doing the same next to him.

Once again, Lance was both impressed and terrified by Pidge's resolve. He was so worried for his own family who was safe, back home on Earth, and here Pidge was—determined to get hers back after over a year of being prisoner of the Galra. Lance didn't even want to imagine what they had been through at this point—if they were even still alive. Shiro and Keith were both living proof of just how terrifying the Galra could be.

Apparently, everyone else was in support of the idea as well, and so it was decided that Allura and Coran would search out a place that might hold pertinent information. They were all aware that a place like that would be well guarded and the mission dangerous, but hey—that was their job.

And while dealing with Keith was difficult and exhausting and Lance didn't even want to imagine what state Pidge's father and brother might be in, he also hoped that Pidge would be able to find—something, at least. Her program had been able to find Keith, after all, so maybe they stood a real chance at finding Pidge's family now.

 

*****

 

Lance was having a nice, comfortable afternoon, getting his ass kicked by the Gladiator on the training deck. So it was actually not nice or comfortable _at all_ , and he was totally ready to throw in the towel and be done for the day. Single combat was important, sure, but he was already going to have bruises _everywhere_ tomorrow, and some weapons—like his blaster—were just not meant for the scenario of 'training robot hits you with a stick at close range'.

It certainly didn't help his motivation that the door behind him swooshed open, distracting him enough that the Gladiator's staff caught him against his lower ribs. Which— _ouch_.

"End simulation," he wheezed out between clenched teeth, hands covering the now throbbing spot. Only when the robot had deactivated, he turned around to see who he could thank for this new bruise.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Shiro—the only person who was regularly haunting the training deck, with Keith still sitting in the cell.

"Hey," Hunk greeted him with a friendly wave and a sympathetic wince at the way Lance cradled his poor ribs. "Sorry 'bout that. Just wanted to drop by and remind you to get your goo for this evening. Coran and I are going to clean out the machine, so it's going to be out of commission until tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks," Lance muttered, deciding that grabbing goo was as good a reason as any to call it quits for the day with single practice. And if Coran and Hunk were busy cleaning the goo dispenser, that also meant Coran wouldn't try to recruit _him_ for any cleaning duties, as it happened so often. Jackpot!

"Oh, and don't forget to grab some goo for Keith as well," Hunk tacked on, und suddenly Lance felt his good mood rapidly slipping away.

"I'm not on goo duty until tomorrow," he pointed out cautiously. He didn't like that expression of dawning horror on Hunk's face. He didn't like it at all.

"You've been—I thought you were bringing him goo starting _yesterday_ ," Hunk pressed out tensely, eyes wide. "Do you mean we— _fuck_."

"Quiznak," Lance added emphatically, his good mood shattered once and for all. "Damn it, I really thought we had our schedule down by now!" he cursed, wringing his hands and beginning his march to the kitchen with Hunk at his side.

"I really thought—I was hoping that by now he'd tell us. When we forget to bring him anything to eat," Hunk muttered dejectedly.

"Me too, buddy," Lance sighed. "Me too."

"Just—" Hunk made a distressed noise, worrying his lower lip, obviously agonizing in his thoughts about the whole thing. Lance would have loved to ease his concerns, but he was feeling the same way. "How often do you think we forgot by now?"

"Huh?" Lance gave his friend a confused look. He was just as worried about Keith not telling them when they were accidentally starving him as Hunk was, but that question didn't make much sense. "This is the third time?"

"No, I mean—" Hunk's face scrunched up into something unhappy and guilty. "Do you think we ever forgot to bring him anything and _didn't_ notice? Like, at all? That he went hungry for a day or two or maybe even longer, and we didn't apologize or bring him more goo to make up for it or even mention it, because we didn't _notice_?"

"I—I hope not," Lance muttered. Though now he _was_ wondering if that had happened at any point, and felt even worse than before. Great. "I'm—He's never told us when we forgot, but I'm sure he wouldn't just—quietly starve to death." He tried to give Hunk an encouraging smile, but it felt brittle on his face. He couldn't help but feel like despite all their efforts and Keith's slow progress, Keith _never_ telling them and quietly starving away would be exactly what would happen in that scenario. That didn't exactly speak much for their _progress_ , did it?

"You're relieved of goo duty," Hunk declared, pulling him out of his negative thoughts.

"I—what?" Lance asked, perplexed.

"Nothing against you," Hunk added hurriedly, holding up his hands in placation. "Just. Us taking turns on the job obviously isn't working. And Keith doesn't use the beeper when we forget. So for now I'll just do it on my own. That way, we can't mix up whose turn it is, and Keith won't have to go hungry."

Lance frowned for a moment, thinking the idea over. He couldn't really argue with the logic behind it, and he doubted that Hunk meant it as a personal slight. Still, he couldn't help but wonder when the last time had been that he'd felt unhappy about no longer having to do something. Probably never, before this.

"Fine," he agreed after a few moments with a nod. It was a solid plan, and he _really_ didn't want for Keith to go hungry for a whole day by accident.

Not that Keith would have to, if he'd just use that stupid beeper for once, damn it.

Lance sidled up closer to Hunk, playfully nudging his friend's arm. "You better not forget, though. I will hold it over your head for the rest of our shared existence."

"Sure thing," Hunk chuckled, a small smile on his face. It wasn't quite enough to get rid of the guilt and tension he still carried in his shoulders, but Lance would take it.

 

*****

 

They still sang for Keith regularly. 'They' meaning that sometimes Lance would sing, then Hunk would show up with the weird green banjo-guitar and forbid him from ever "yowling" like that again, then sing himself. Lance would stick out his tongue, but quietly accept defeat as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

Some days, when Lance was leaning against the space glass, Keith would lean against it from the other side. Other days, Keith wouldn't. And on very rare, very good days, Keith would lean against the space glass first, looking at them expectantly. That had happened twice so far. Lance was proudly keeping count.

He wasn't quite sure if there was a system behind these days. If it had to do with the kinds of songs they played, or Keith's mood that day, or something else entirely. He was still trying to figure that one out.

The day after their latest goo duty mishap was a good day. Hunk was playing a song Lance didn't recognize, Lance was slouched against the space glass, and Keith joined him there after a few songs, leaning in so close that one of his huge ears got smooshed against the glass. It was oddly adorable.

Hunk's quiet chuckle was what got Lance to look away from the fluffy purple fur eventually. "What?" he asked flatly, glaring at his friend.

"Nothing, just—" Hunk's smile was way too wide, suspiciously so, and Lance wanted to know what was going on. How dare Hunk not share his reason to be amused with his best friend. "I'm pretty sure that with those ears, he's taller than you."

" _What_?" Lance sat up straight immediately, puffing out his chest. "He is not!" He looked over at Keith, who was watching them with wide, innocent eyes—and those damn ears perked up high.

"Dude, you were like, an inch taller than him. At best. And those ears are huge," Hunk pointed out calmly, still looking entirely too amused.

"They're not _that_ huge!" Lance protested, sitting up as straight as he could next to Keith's curled up form. "And I'm definitely more than an inch taller than Keith! Right, Keith?"

He turned around to the cell, only to have to watch as Keith's ears perked up even higher. And was that a smile? That was definitely a smile.

"Traitor," Lance hissed sharply, hands gripping his chest. "The both of you. I can't believe I ever trusted you. Look at what you did, Hunk, now he's laughing at me."

"He's like. Vaguely amused at best," Hunk chuckled, moving closer, the tune he'd been playing on the guitar forgotten. "And probably more at your antics than because of you."

"He's laughing at me, I just know it!" Lance insisted, gesturing at Keith. "Don't you see that spite in his eyes!"

"I don't see anything in his eyes except yellow. Can't even tell if he's looking at you right now," Hunk teased him, smirking.

"Yes, he is! I might not be able to tell where his creepy Galra eyes look half the time, but right now, he's definitely looking here, because he's making fun of me!" Lance looked back over to Keith for confirmation, but Keith wasn't looking back at him.

In fact, Keith was moving away and sitting down in his usual spot, where he curled up and stared at the wall across from him.

Lance got the sudden feeling that something was very, very wrong.

"Uh, Keith?" Lance asked hesitantly. One purple ear twitched, but otherwise there was no reaction.

"Damn it, Lance," Hunk muttered quietly next to him. And though it sounded more like a general curse than an accusation at him specifically, Lance still felt the need to defend himself.

"This isn't my fault!" he hissed at Hunk, then banged his hand against the space glass. "Hey, Keith! Buddy! Come on! I'm not actually upset if you're taller than me now. You know that, right?"

There was no reply.

"Lance is also very sorry for what he said about your ears and eyes and general looking Galra. We don't mind the way you look now," Hunk added on.

"I'm pretty sure Shiro minds," Lance grumbled quietly, receiving a shove from Hunk. Which, okay, he probably deserved that. Maybe it had been a little too early to complain about Keith looking Galra. Or maybe something else was wrong? "Yeah, I'm really sorry, buddy. We were just joking around!"

Despite his apology, Keith didn't react. Lance cursed and Hunk pursed his lips unhappily.

"I'm really sorry, Keith. About whatever I did. We didn't mean to hurt you?" Lance tried once more, but to no avail.

"I just hope he's not—back to before," Hunk murmured, worry clear in his voice.

Lance took a long look at Keith, the way the Galra sat curled up tightly, face now hidden behind his knees, looking just as unapproachable as when they had first found him.

"Come on, Hunk," Lance attempted to cheer him up. "He can't possibly be upset about this _that_ long."

 

*****

 

Keith ignored them for the next three days.

At some point Lance caved and accepted that maybe, perhaps, in some way, some of the blame for that was on him. Which only made him feel even more miserable.

He tried apologizing a few more times. He told Keith in length about how he didn't mind him looking Galra—none of them did. Promise. He even told Keith that his purple fluffy bat ears were kind of cute.

It didn't help.

"Maybe it's another blanket thing," Hunk remarked, nodding sagely.

"Huh?" Lance asked with stunning eloquence.

Hunk shrugged. "You know, like that time he got upset when he saw you with a blanket? Something that technically shouldn't be a big deal, but for some reason that we don't know yet, it really freaks him out."

Lance hummed, then nodded. That was a pretty solid theory. "When he freaked out about the blanket, I yelled at him until he told me what was wrong," he muttered.

"You probably shouldn't yell at him. Ever again. At all," Hunk told him, disapproval written all over his face.

"Yeah, I know." Lance sighed deeply.

He just didn't know what else to do to get through to Keith, when the other was ignoring him like this. Being loud and maybe a little annoying had always been his way of getting the other pilot's attention. But he couldn't really needle Keith when he was like this.

Not when Keith wouldn't even tell them what was wrong in the first place.

 

*****

 

After three excruciating days of being ignored by Keith, karma at least had the decency to let them have something good. 'Something good' was, in this case, a new type of food goo that Hunk had mixed up for them. Despite its blue color, it actually tasted sort of like chocolate pudding. Not quite, but close enough.

The Alteans deemed it weird after a few bites, and Coran made a point that they couldn't have it too often as it wasn't "energy efficient". Lance wasn't sure if that related to the production of the goo or its nutritional value, but he didn't particularly care.

He and his fellow humans were stuffing their faces with the stuff. Shiro was doing it a bit more dignified than the rest of them, and Pidge had given up after two and a half bowls, leaving the rest for the mice. Lance had to admit defeat to Hunk and Shiro after four bowls, slouching back in his chair with a full stomach and a content grin.

Even in space, chocolate pudding made everything better.

"Hey, Lance," Hunk nudged him once everyone was done eating. "I was going to bring Keith some of this, I thought maybe it'd help. Wanna' come with?"

"Sure," Lance agreed easily. As if there was any chance of him turning down an offer like that.

*

Keith picked up the bowl as always, then sat back down in his usual spot. Instead of beginning to eat, however, he narrowed his yellow eyes in suspicion.

"It's a new type of goo," Hunk explained quickly. "It's not quite the same, but if you close your eyes and ignore the sour aftertaste, it's almost like chocolate pudding."

They both waited tensely as Keith kept staring at the goo. Then, after a few more moments, Keith slowly began to eat. Lance was just about to sigh in relief when he saw Keith take the first bite. But Keith's face scrunched up almost comically, and Lance's sigh turned into a stifled chuckle.

"Uh, sorry. If you don't like it, I can bring you the regular green goo?" Hunk offered immediately.

But Keith didn't answer, instead slowly eating a few more sporks of the stuff, grimacing at the taste every time. Lance could practically feel the concern radiating off of Hunk, and after his initial amusement he didn't feel much better himself. The expressions were funny, sure, but it was pretty worrying to see Keith forcing down the stuff despite obviously not liking it at all.

After a few more bites, Keith put down the bowl. They both relaxed a little, only to tense right back up when Keith's glare snapped over to them.

"I thought you'd like it, I'm sorry!" Hunk was quick to apologize. "You don't have to eat it. I'll go and get you the green stuff?"

Hunk held his hand out at the hatch for the bowl of blue goo, flinching when Keith hissed at them sharply.

"What? What's wrong?" Lance asked. He didn't get what Keith's problem was. He got it even _less_ when Keith ate another spork of blue goo, only to visibly shudder as he did, the motion carrying all the way up into the tips of his purple ears.

"Maybe he's worried we won't bring him anything else?" Hunk wondered out loud.

"You just told him you'd bring him green goo. And I know you can hear and understand us just fine, Keith!" Lance called out, banging his hand against the space glass for good measure. "You hear? We'll bring you new goo! The boring green kind!"

"I'll just go and get it," Hunk muttered before hurrying away.

Lance stayed at the cell, exchanging tense glares with the Galra. Getting Keith to look at him again didn't feel like such a great accomplishment at the moment.

"You know," Lance grumbled sullenly after a few minutes of silence. "Things would be a lot easier for you if you'd just _tell_ us what your fucking deal is every once in a while. I know that 'cool, mysterious asshole' routine is your thing, but it's really not doing you any favors right now."

Keith stayed silent and glowered at him. Those yellow eyes really gave Lance the creeps sometimes. But he had learnt his lesson and kept that thought to himself.

When Hunk returned and slid a bowl of green goo into the cell, Keith quickly snatched it up. After a few hesitant bites, he pushed the bowl with blue goo through the hatch, then went back to eating.

Hunk sighed in relief. So did Lance.

At least Keith wouldn't go hungry for another day.

 

*****

 

A few hours later, Hunk, Pidge, and Lance were sitting in front of the cell for their regular singing routine. Just as the few days before, Keith was ignoring them and rooted to his usual spot, but more importantly, Lance couldn't help but notice that Keith's color was—off.

Instead of the usual purple, Keith's face was more of a light lavender.

For a short moment, Lance wondered if this had some deeper meaning. Was Keith changing back to his human color? Was he changing back to a _human_? Was something like that even possible?

Then Keith jumped to his feet, darted into the bathroom, and almost as soon as the door had closed behind him they heard retching noises.

"Is he—?" Lance asked the obvious question, looking over at his friends.

"Yup," Pidge stated calmly, though her brows were furrowed with worry.

"Oh my god," Hunk muttered, decidedly less calm and closer to a meltdown. "I can't believe I poisoned Keith with blue goo."

"None of us could have known that would happen. You were just trying to help," Pidge assured him, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yeah, buddy. This isn't your fault. I'm sure Keith knows that, too, or he's even more of an idiot than usual," Lance added, receiving a glare from Pidge.

"You're not helping."

"I'm his best friend, I'm _great_ at helping him," Lance hissed.

"I fucked up. I fucked up so much," Hunk whimpered dejectedly, looking so devastated that Lance shuffled closer and leant against the side that was not currently occupied by Pidge.

"It's not your fault, buddy," he repeated, grabbing Hunk's hand and squeezing it, if anything to distract Hunk from his worries. "And besides, now we have a very efficient food-based weapon against the Galra."

"You're _really_ not helping," Pidge hissed, and Lance was glad that her limbs were too short for her to kick or slap him from Hunk's other side.

"I would never fight anyone by giving them food that makes them sick. I would never—" Hunk's quiet muttering ended abruptly as the retching sounds started up again, louder than before and sounding pitiful.

Lance felt sick with sympathy. He was sure Hunk was feeling worse.

He wondered how they could get Keith to forgive them for _that_.

 

*****

 

Keith wouldn't even look at them anymore when they came to his cell. Much less talk.

Lance felt awful. He could tell that Hunk was slowly drowning in guilt for the goo mishap.

He wondered what he'd done wrong to cause Keith to go back to ignoring them.

He wondered what he could do to make it right again.

He couldn't think of anything—nothing worked.

 

*****

 

There had been times when it had been just the two of them.

Just Shiro and Keith.

And all it needed was five magical space lions, both of them captured and tortured by evil purple aliens, and one of them turning into one of said aliens, for them to go back to that—just the two of them.

Shiro and Keith. And the transparent, glass-like forcefield between them, keeping Keith from clawing Shiro's head off, and Shiro from cutting Keith down with his cybernetic arm.

Shiro wasn't sure which one of them needed the protection more. All he knew was that part of him was glad that they had this barrier separating them, separating him from the Galra—and another part of him wanted nothing more than to tear it down. Couldn't bear to see Keith locked into a cell, after being a prisoner for so long already. It made him sick.

He could never look at their prisoner without seeing Keith's blank face.

He could never look at Keith without also seeing a Galra.

It was torture.

It was good that no one else was ever around to see him like this. See Keith. See them, together, but only able to stand it because of the barrier between them.

They'd had better times.

"Lance keeps complaining that you won't talk to him," Shiro murmured quietly.

He never quite knew what to say when he was down here, at the cell they were keeping Keith in. Keith wasn't answering him anymore.

"You know, he's very sorry that he accidentally hurt you. Hunk, too. They were only trying to cheer you up."

A few long moments of silence passed between them.

"None of us want to hurt you. We only want to help. But I know that it has to be difficult for you, to accept that. That you aren't in danger anymore."

Shiro dared a short glance over towards Keith, who wasn't looking at him, but at one of the walls of the cell.

He could see Keith's hair, the 'mullet' Lance used to complain about so often, but with a dark purple tint to it. Keith's nose, and violet skin. Keith's brows, and large purple ears. Keith's eyes, but filled with eerie yellow, lacking a pupil.

The image sent chills down Shiro's spine. He could never look for long. Something dark and vicious always began to tug at his mind when he did.

He averted his gaze, looking straight ahead at the wall just like Keith did, guilt gnawing at him.

But now they _knew_ that this was Keith. There was no more guessing. No more excuses.

"I think—the others think that I would be able to help you with this, better than they could. Because we were close before. Because we went through the same things. But they're wrong. I was just a regular prisoner, and you a paladin of Voltron. I forgot all of it, but you—I think you remember. I think that's why you can't let go. Why you're stuck like this. Even I feel like I can't let go, sometimes. And I don't even remember."

He took a deep breath. Stared at his own fingers until they stopped shaking—the ones on his left hand. The ones on his right hand never shook. Never fiddled when he was nervous. Never twitched when his heart felt like it was beating too fast, too hard, causing his chest to ache.

"I'm sorry that we took so long to find you. We went after you as soon as we found Hunk. Put him in a healing pod, took off and tore through half a dozen Galra ships. But we couldn't find you. After about two weeks, the trail went cold, and we didn't even know where to look anymore. The universe is such a big place."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. His eyes felt too hot, and Keith didn't need him to break down right now.

Not that any of them knew what it _was_ that Keith needed.

"Pidge was the one to insist that we keep looking. She said she wouldn't lose any more of her family to the Galra. Talked Allura into going to this advanced tech planet, came up with a code that impressed even the Alteans, and found you. I don't think she slept more than three hours a night during that time."

More silence. Shiro dared a glance over to his side. Maybe Keith was looking ahead, or maybe he was looking over at Shiro. Shiro could never tell with those Galra eyes. He suppressed a shudder and looked away once more.

"We were—We _are_ so glad that we finally found you. I know we haven't made things easy for you—we didn't even know if it _was_ you, in the beginning. We didn't handle things well. It must have been terrifying for you. I apologize for that."

Shiro sighed. He wished his fingers would finally stop shaking. He wished his voice would. He wished his chest wouldn't hurt the way it did. He wished Keith would be—better.

"It's probably still terrifying. You're still in a cell. We're trying our best, but—I don't know. I don't think you want to stay locked up. You didn't come out when I opened it. You just attacked me. I don't know what it is that you want. I don't know what you need. I just—wish I could help you."

Another glance to his side. Purple ears were angled his way. He couldn't tell where Keith was looking. He could never tell what the Galra was looking at.

"It has to be hard, to move on from what happened to you there. It must have been terrible. Sometimes—I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking I'm back there. It's ridiculous. I don't even know what 'back there' _looks_ like. I forgot it all. Do you ever feel that way? You're still in a cell now. You weren't in a cell when we found you. Did they—We all just _assumed_ you would be in a cell. I don't know anymore."

He took a deep breath, blinking rapidly a few times. He wished his eyes wouldn't feel so itchy. He wished there wasn't a panel just a few feet away from him, that he would only have to put his hand on to free Keith, because he never did that. Not after the first time. Not after the Galra had attacked him and he had snapped right into fighting back.

"They put that collar on you. Is that how they kept you there? Pidge said it sends out electrical shocks. She said you didn't want her to take another look at it. I wasn't around for any of that. I'm sorry. I was thinking you might want it off—we all were. But I understand that you don't want any of us near you. We—We wanted to save you, but I think all we're doing sometimes is hurting you even more. We don't want to, but we do. We just want to help. But that doesn't make it okay."

He closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to look at the Galra. He didn't want to start crying.

"We—All we want to do is help you. We know things won't go back to the way they were before. They can't. I know that. But they're not okay now. You're not okay. You can't go back to before, but you should be _okay_. Not in this miserable cell. I'm so sorry we're doing this to you."

He felt watched. So he opened his eyes, looked over at Keith. He still didn't know what the Galra was looking at. But Keith's face was angled towards him, and that seemed like a pretty obvious clue. So Shiro made an effort not to shift under those yellow eyes, even though they made his skin crawl.

"I don't care about before. I don't even care about what they did to you—I do care, but it's not important. It's not as important as getting you back. As you getting back to a—a state of feeling okay. You don't have to stay in that cell. You don't have to let them make you miserable anymore, now that they don't have you any longer. If I could just _change_ things, switch with you so that I'm the one who remembers and you're the one who can move on, I would. I want nothing more for you than being able to leave it all behind you."

He looked at Keith, and Keith looked back, face scrunched up into an expression that Shiro couldn't quite read. He wondered if he could blame that on them being apart for so long, or on Keith's new face.

"I just—I want you to be okay, Keith. I want you back. I miss you."

"You shouldn't."

The voice was nothing more than a quiet murmur. It was still so loud, it was deafening.

Emotions rolled over Shiro, so strong that his breath hitched. His eyes felt dangerously wet.

"I'm glad you're talking again," he murmured softly.

"Then don't ignore what I'm saying," Keith snapped, and when Shiro raised his gaze, Keith looked upset, yellow eyes narrowed in anger. Shiro felt a thrum of energy going through his cybernetic arm as it began to activate. He hurried to fight it back down.

"What do you mean?" he asked, voice low and cautious. "You're our friend. We all missed you. Of course we wanted you back." He didn't think Keith had ever talked so much at once since they found him. He hoped Keith wouldn't stop now, even though the raspy tone of Keith's voice made his heart ache.

Keith shook his head. The purple ears didn't go with the movement, always angled straight ahead, at him. Shiro wondered if that meant that Keith saw him as a threat, too. "You shouldn't," Keith repeated with a snarl, eyes narrowing further, lips curling in anger to bare sharp fangs. "Why do you pretend you do? You can barely look at me!"

Shiro kept himself from flinching at the accusing tone. He knew he deserved it. He just hoped Keith hadn't given up on him—on _them_ yet. "I still have to get used to how you look now," he muttered quietly. "But that's on me. It's not on you."

"It's not?" Keith asked, voice scathing and full of disbelief. "You can't look at me. Everyone keeps flinching. _I_ can't even look at me!"

"We _all_ have to get used to it," Shiro stated firmly, placing his human hand against the barrier separating them. "And we will, because we all want you out here, back with us." He wondered how he could make Keith believe him, when he had to suppress a shudder every time he saw the Galra. He wondered how he would be able to convince himself.

"You shouldn't," Keith hissed once more, purple ears trembling. Shiro had no idea what that meant. He wished he knew. "I—" Keith broke off, taking a deep breath. When he went on, his voice was shaking even worse than his ears. "I fucked up, Shiro. I fucked up so much."

"I don't care. None of us care about that, Keith," Shiro murmured softly. He was suddenly reminded of all the times Keith had lost his temper back at the Garrison and gotten in trouble for it. How Shiro had made it his duty to remind Keith that it was okay, that he could still try to do better next time. _This_ was still Keith now, he reminded himself. No matter what happened, how he looked or what he had done. "I did terrible things when they had me, too. It's okay. We're just glad you're here with us, now. We will figure out the rest together."

"Sometimes," Keith whispered, and Shiro caught how he was nervously twisting his fingers. Couldn't help but notice the sharp claws there. Made a conscious effort to keep his cybernetic arm deactivated. "Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm back here." There was a tense pause. "Sometimes I don't want to be."

Shiro blinked, couldn't stop his eyes from going wide with surprise.

Keith let out a bitter laugh. "Disappointing, isn't it? All that hard work to find me, and all you got was another fucking _Galra_."

"You want to go back? To them?" Shiro asked, his voice shaking slightly. He didn't want to believe it. He'd never wanted to go back—not that he remembered.

To his immense relief, Keith shook his head. That bitter smile was still twisting his features, showing off his fangs. It was painful to watch. "No, not to them. Being tortured for information wasn't that much fun."

Shiro flinched. "Then where do you want to be?"

"Don't know," Keith murmured with a shrug. His ears were drooping, his fangs hidden from view once more as he frowned. He looked sad. He almost looked like the Keith Shiro remembered. "It's just easier to leave than to wait until I'm kicked out. You don't want me here."

Shiro sucked in a sharp breath. "Of course we do! Keith, we all want you here. _I_ want you here!" He _did_. He couldn't help his reaction towards the Galra, but he could never give up on Keith. Keith had never given up on _him_.

Keith scoffed. "Now you're just lying to both of us," he hissed, yellow eyes shining wetly. That twisted smile returned, looking sad rather than angry this time. "But it's a nice lie."

"Keith, I'm not—" Shiro broke off, unsure what he could say to give comfort in this situation. "Whatever they did to you, we'll help you through it. I promise. You don't have to deal with this alone," he murmured eventually. "We're not going to kick you out because you look like them now, or because of whatever they made you do."

Keith didn't look back at him, curling up tighter instead and hiding his face behind his knees.

Shiro wasn't sure what else he could say. Ever since they had gotten Keith back, he didn't know anymore. Half the time, he felt like he was making things worse. At the moment, he felt almost overwhelmed by just how much Keith had said—even though objectively, Keith hadn't said much at all. But it was such a crass contrast to the days and weeks of complete silence before.

It felt so odd, to hear Keith's voice coming from that Galra's mouth.

It was so heart-wrenching to hear Keith's voice, unsure and rough from not talking for so long. Blaming himself for things that hadn't been in his power.

They should have been there. They should have found him earlier. _He_ should have found Keith earlier. He should at least be able to help Keith now, instead of flinching every time he saw the Galra move. Shouldn't feel dread clawing at his mind every time he looked at his friend.

Shiro wasn't sure if it was fear, worry, or relief making his throat tight when he spoke again. "I promise you, Keith. We'll get through this. You're not alone."

For a moment, it almost looked as if the Galra was glancing towards him before looking away again.

Maybe that was a good sign. Shiro could only hope so.

Not knowing what else to say, he eventually left. With the Galra out of sight, the tension finally drained out of his body, leaving behind nothing but concern for Keith.

 

*****

 

**{{{**

Sleep became rare. Even when they left him alone in his cell for some time, it was hard to truly rest with the way his body ached.

Sleeping so little made everything else—different.

Keith didn't know what else to call it. He knew that when he slept, he had nightmares, but at times it was difficult to tell what was reality and what was just a dream.

The masked alien sending that eerie black electricity through Keith's body? Probably real.

Rovik cutting him open until his insides dropped out one by one? Might have been real. Hard to tell. Keith could have sworn it happened, but far as he knew, people didn't just walk away from that. Yet here he was. He couldn't remember any trips to the healing pod recently. If it had been real, shouldn't he be dead?

He remembered some other Galra breaking his ribs one by one. Had that happened? Who knew. It might have. Who cared, anyway.

Some things had probably happened. Others had not. If they had never really happened, maybe there was some hope that they wouldn't do it to him _again_. Now that would be nice. Better it all just be nightmares.

Keith was startled out of his half asleep state by the sound of the door opening. He squinted against the light streaming inside. The figure standing in the doorway didn't look like a Galra or a soldier drone, but—smaller.

Human.

A spark of hope rose up in his chest, and Keith hurried to push it back down. He had fallen for this trick once. As nice as his team finding him would be, he couldn't let down his guard. Not until he could be sure that it was really _them_.

"Keith?" the figure in the doorway called out, hurrying inside. It sounded like Shiro's voice. "Keith! Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

The person crouched down in front of him. The black paladin's armor was unmistakable. Despite the visor of the helmet being down, Keith could see the outlines of Shiro's face. The worried look in his eyes, the tense set to his jaw.

"Keith!" Shiro, or no one at all, called out again. The coarse fabric of gloves gripped Keith's face, angling it to look at the visor.

Keith swallowed nervously, biting down on his lower lip. Could he really risk answering? The last Shiro, the illusion, had reacted so quickly. Not only to his words, but also to his thoughts.

What if they could read his thoughts? He was fucked.

But if this was the real Shiro, then he would be worried out of his mind. Shiro would be _devastated_ if he was really here and Keith just didn't respond.

Just as feared, Shiro looked increasingly distressed in front of him, shaking Keith lightly as he kept saying his name over and over, asking him to respond.

It was a bit odd that none of the others seemed to be here, maybe that meant this was all an illus—

"Guys, can you hear me?" Shiro asked, his voice a little shaky. "I found Keith, but he's not—he's not responding. I don't know what's wrong yet, but I'll—I think I can carry him out of here, if you give me some cover."

"We're on our way," Hunk's static-y voice sounded faintly from Shiro's helmet.

A moment later, Lance's equally faint and static-y voice came. "Is he—Is it bad?"

Lance sounded so _worried_.

Keith squeezed his eyes shut. How could he _do_ this to them?

Maybe the illusion hadn't even been about getting information from him. Maybe they had just been trying to make him distrust his real team when they came for him. Maybe that was what was happening now.

"Shiro," Keith pressed out, looking up at his friend. He had to be careful. He could talk to them, but not risk giving away any important information for now.

Shiro immediately brightened up, pulling Keith closer. "Keith! Oh my God, I was so worried. Is—Is something wrong? Can you walk?"

"I'll walk anywhere as long as it's away from here," Keith weakly tried for a joke.

Shiro didn't laugh. He just gave a tense nod. "I'll get you out of here, I swear."

Keith nodded, shuffling a little so Shiro would be able to reach the chains holding him here. With Shiro's cybernetic arm, cutting through them should be easy. After that, running wouldn't be a problem, especially not with support from Hunk, Lance, and Pidge.

... Oh no. Was he doing it again? Giving away information that he shouldn't?

Shiro wasn't moving to cut through the chains. Why wasn't he moving?

"Keith, are you okay? You don't look well," Shiro asked, looking worried. But not moving.

Keith shook his head. He could feel himself starting to panic. He couldn't panic now. That would only make things worse. Why was he panicking? He had anticipated from the beginning that this might not be real. Why was he panicking over that now? He couldn't breathe. His chest felt too tight, as if someone was pressing down on it. And by now Keith _knew_ what that felt like.

"Keith? You need to breathe," Shiro, or maybe fake-Shiro, told him. "Just hold on until the others get here. Please."

That made sense, didn't it? Waiting here for the others to give them cover. Did that make sense?

Shiro could still try to cut him loose.

Could Keith still risk giving him answers?

"Shiro, we're almost there. How is he?" Lance's faint voice came from Shiro's helmet.

Was Lance really that worried? Keith's heart was beating so fast. He couldn't even tell anymore if it was because of his panic or because of Lance.

Did Lance really care about Keith as much as Keith cared about him? He doubted Lance had a crush on—

There hadn't been any sounds of fighting in the background when Lance had radioed in. Shouldn't there have been sounds of fighting? But maybe they were just too quiet for Keith to hear.

Maybe they were really _here_.

Maybe they weren't.

Had Shiro even replied to Lance yet? Did Keith miss it? Was there any reason for Shiro to reply?

"Don't worry, Keith, we'll have you out of here soon," Shiro muttered right then. "We'll get you into a pod and then work on—whatever else comes up. Get you something decent to eat, some—"

"No food goo?" Keith asked, cutting Shiro off. Food was a safe topic, right? It had to be. He could barely remember getting anything but that awful goop stuff. Hunk was trying his best, but with only unknown space ingredients to work with... No, that wasn't fair. The results of that had tasted pretty great.

"Yeah," Shiro answered eagerly, "anything you want. Hunk's meals were really good, we can ask him."

Keith nodded hesitantly. Maybe he was just too suspicious. Maybe Shiro was really here.

But the others were taking an awfully long time to get here. And the ship was eerily quiet, given that there should be battles happening all over the place.

Unless the team had stealthily infiltrated them. It would be possible, with the cloaking mechanism Pidge had built into the green Lion...

But then why weren't the others here already?

"Keith? You still with me?" Shiro asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Even their stealth missions had never really been stealthy for long. And Keith was pretty sure there were guards all over the place, checking his cell regularly.

Shiro hadn't closed the door. They would have noticed that the door was open. Unless Shiro had taken them down. But a fight like that, Keith would have heard.

Keith took a shuddering breath. His chest felt too tight again.

This was another lie, wasn't it?

"Keith," Shiro spoke up again. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Keith shook his head. His fingers were trembling slightly and he forced himself to keep them still.

"Fuck off," he hissed, pressing his eyes closed. "You fucked up. I saw through it. You can stop it now."

"Keith," Shiro's voice sounded out again, distressed. "What is wrong?"

"I saw through it," Keith repeated, curling up into a ball. Shiro wasn't here. He knew. He had to believe in that. Or he would make things more dangerous for the real Shiro. "Take him away. I know it's not him."

"Keith." Shiro sounded so devastated. Terrified for him. Scared.

It hurt.

"Take him away already!" Keith yelled out.

He felt gloved hands on his shoulder and flinched sharply, shoving them away.

"Keith!" Shiro called out, pained.

Not the real Shiro. He couldn't, he _couldn't_ —

"Fuck _off_!" Keith shouted, the shrill sound of his own voice ringing in his ears afterwards. He couldn't breathe. His eyes felt wet. He was shaking.

When he dared to open his eyes, his cell was dark and empty. The door was closed.

Shiro wasn't there.

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case any of you were wondering: Yes, I totally used all my PTSD knowledge from my last presentation to buff up Shiro's POV. I have no regrets. I just need all of them to suffer.  
> Aside from that, delving into Shiro's emotions has been a lot of fun for me, especially since you got barely anything about his feelings from Lance's POV. Poor Shiro really has a lot to deal with, and it's all coming together in the worst way with this whole Galra!Keith stuff.  
> I know there are a lot of fics with Galra Keith where Shiro gets used to things much quicker than in this one, but (being a huge drama queen) I felt it was better to have him struggle in this fic, especially since not only Keith's appearance changed, but his personality as well. Also I could write a small essay about triggers and PTSD symptoms in regards of Shiro and how all of that would clash with Keith looking Galra, and it's just something I don't see going over easy. Since, yes, Shiro is rationally aware of it that this is his friend Keith, but our brain and our emotions don't always respond to reason, especially not after trauma, so Shiro is going to need a lot more time to deal with all of this properly.  
> But all that rambling aside, I'm glad Soulie told me to give him his own POV here instead of Lance showcasing everything, since it all turned out so nicely this way.
> 
> And Keith finally talks! Like, a lot. I actually took out a few lines because it felt like too much and was giving away too much, but it's still a lot. You guys are probably just glad that he's doing things now. No idea how you stuck with this fic the first six chapters when nothing even happened. You guys are troopers. I appreciate each and every one of you who made it this far.
> 
> In other news: Watch as the side plot slowly develops, because I am completely unable to write a fic that only centers on romance.
> 
> Stay tuned for more side plot and Lance accidentally fucking up next time!  
> The next three chapters are mostly written out already and just need (a lot) of editing, so hopefully the next chapter shouldn't take too long. Depending on how much Pokemon Sun and university stuff distract me. We'll see.
> 
> Also, a belated Happy New Year to all of you! :D


	8. Dreams and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And there was that lip chewing again. Lance was actually kind of concerned for Keith's lips. Those Galra teeth looked awfully sharp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from ['Sleepsong](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XibuUhKIM_Q)' by Bastille. Which is a beautiful song and actually fits really well to what Keith is going through in this fic (because of me. ha. ha ha. :') )
> 
> [Souliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird) has as always been my faithful and wonderful beta reader and so they get the usual big thank you. ilu <3
> 
> Feedback has been so amazing for the last chapter, so a huge thank you to all of you, my dear readers, too ;) It's so rewarding to hear that you enjoy this work!

The next time Lance apologized to Keith, after Shiro had talked to him, Keith accepted it with a stiff nod. 

And after how much he had fucked things up with his thoughtless comments about Keith's looks and the accident with Hunk's blue goo, Lance was very happy that Keith was reacting again, don't get him wrong. It was just— 

It _figured_ that it would be Shiro fixing things. Of course. Always Shiro. 

Lance _knew_ Shiro and Keith had a close relationship, he did. But part of him had wished that, after he had been the one to fuck things up, _he_ 'd be the one to fix them, too. 

Apparently though, his two dozen heartfelt apologies just hadn't been enough. Getting Keith to say a few words hadn't been enough. Whereas Shiro only needed to show up, and suddenly Keith was all but holding speeches. 

Yeah, exactly. Not only had Shiro managed to get Keith to forgive them, to look at them again and say the occasional word—apparently Keith had also _talked_ to him. Like, really talked. Shiro's recounting of it had been sparse, but according to him Keith had let a few things slip. Important things. 

Like how, apparently, Keith seemed to think that they didn't want him with them, didn't want him back. That they wouldn't accept him because he looked Galra and because of whatever he had done while he'd been their prisoner—what exactly that had been still remained a mystery. How Keith apparently couldn't stand his Galra looks _himself_ , which wasn't all that surprising, considering what the Galra had done to him. How Keith wasn't always sure if he was back on the Castle ship with them, which might explain some of his standoffishness. And then there was the small and insignificant detail that he'd been tortured for information on them. That didn't come as a surprise, really, but it still didn't sit well with Lance. 

None of it sat well with Lance. 

But there wasn't really an alternative to it. What Keith had been through had been awful, but Lance would rather know about it and be able to help than ignore it altogether. And after Shiro's intervention, Keith was talking again, though not much. 

Just enough that Lance thought there was hope yet. 

 

***** 

 

"Hey," Lance asked Keith, tense with anticipation, "would you like me to sing again?" 

Yellow eyes settled on him, blinking, once, twice. Then, almost hesitantly, Keith nodded, still curled up. 

Lance didn't really mind that Keith wasn't talking, per se. It was still an _answer_ , and that was what mattered. Besides, it meant that Keith still wanted to hear him sing. Lance's chest was brimming over with warmth and pride as he sang loudly, not quite hitting any notes of [_Don't Worry_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nkf6tuSVxXQ), but eagerly taking in every flick of Keith's ears. 

 

***** 

 

"So, how do you feel about Allura or Coran coming to visit you? Are you still gonna hiss at them like a disgruntled cat if they show up?" Lance asked the next day. 

Keith glared at him pensively. For a while. A really long while. 

Lance was just about to accept that he wasn't going to get an answer, when Keith's tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip before he began chewing on it. That, as Lance had come to learn, often happened before Keith said something. Whether it was Keith choosing his words, mulling over if he should talk at all, or just him working up the nerve to say something, Lance didn't know. 

But he didn't mind giving Keith some more time, and waited patiently and quietly for Keith to get his necessary lip chewing time in. 

"They don't want to come," Keith muttered quietly, after a few minutes had dragged by. 

Lance blinked in surprise. That was not an answer he had expected. "What do you mean? Of course they do. They missed you, just like the rest of us did. The only reason they don't come by is that we've taken all your hissing as you not wanting to see them, and they respect that. Allura always asks us to tell her about how you're doing. And I'm sure Coran can't wait to see you, either." 

Keith looked at Lance, brows scrunched together. "No?" he protested after a moment, sounding a little unsure of himself. 

"Yes," Lance insisted. "They want to see you. I promise. But if you don't feel up to that yet, they'll wait some more." 

Keith's brows scrunched together even further as he pursed his lips. Lance was trying his very best to read the Galra's expression, but it was hard to pin it down to something. Doubt? Hesitance? Consideration? Something about it almost looked pained. 

"I can't—," Keith murmured eventually, purple fingers coming up to rub against his temple. "I'm not—" He shook his head. "Don't—" 

As Keith couldn't quite manage to finish a sentence and looked more and more upset, Lance hurried to speak up. "Hey, it's okay. I'll just tell them to wait some more and not come by for now. Okay?" 

Keith looked at him, ears flicking weakly as he slowly relaxed. After giving Lance a small nod, he curled up tightly, hiding his face behind his knees. 

Lance took that as his cue to leave. Keith looked exhausted, upset, and like he really needed some time to himself. Lance felt a bit guilty for causing Keith to feel that way by asking questions, but at the same time, he was incredibly proud. As far as conversations with Keith went these days, this one had been pretty successful. 

 

***** 

 

"Hi," Pidge greeted them when she came down to the cell a few days later. 

It was too early for their singing session, and Hunk wasn't with them, so Lance knew something was up. The tense set to Pidge's jaw and the way she kept standing, looking over at Keith, only added to that suspicion. 

"I know you're not talking much," Pidge began, voice quiet but determined. Keith's ears flicked, but he didn't look at her. Lance wasn't sure if Pidge noticed any of that, but after swallowing nervously, she kept going. "And I know—I'm pretty sure you're not exactly eager to remember what happened to you. But we're about to hit one of the Galra's main bases to run my program—the one that found you—to maybe get a lead on my dad and Matt. Is there anything you know—anything at all that could help us?" 

By the time Pidge had voiced her question, Keith was looking at her, ears angled forward but body still curled up. Lance honestly couldn't say which one of the two looked more tense. 

A few long moments of silence stretched on between them. 

Keith began gnawing on his lower lip. Lance was suddenly worried even his breathing might be too loud. 

Pidge straightened up, taking a step towards the space glass, voice cracking slightly. "Please—" 

"I haven't seen them," Keith murmured quietly, and Pidge's mouth snapped shut audibly. It was a nice contrast to Lance's, which had just dropped wide open. 

This was the first time he'd heard Keith mention anything from his time with the Galra. 

Keith curled up even tighter, and after a long moment of looking conflicted, Pidge relaxed. She let out a long breath. 

"Thank you," she muttered softly. "Thank you for answering." 

Keith nodded, the movement short and tense. Lance could only look on in wonder. 

Once Pidge had left, Lance spent a few moments simply staring at Keith. Eventually, he managed to pick his jaw back up from the floor and swallow down his raw, unbridled amazement. 

He wanted to say something, to let Keith know just how _much_ his words meant, even if he hadn't been able to provide any information. How much this meant to Pidge, and how much it meant to all of them that he was finally doing better and talking to them _at all_. 

But nothing Lance could think of felt significant enough. He wondered if that was what Keith felt like when _he_ talked. 

 

***** 

 

Over the following days, things were busy. Incredibly busy. Attacking a large base of the Galra for information on Pidge's family was a good plan, sure, but according to Allura they had been "slacking off" ever since finding Keith—which was absolutely true, yes, but there was no need to use such a disdainful tone of voice—, so now they had to train a lot to get back in shape. 

Lance spent a lot of time complaining to Hunk about how his bruises had bruises and how some of his muscles were sore that he hadn't been previously aware even _existed_. 

And as if all that training wasn't bad enough on its own already, it also meant there was more to clean up afterwards. Of course the Castle ship was advanced enough to handle most of it, but apparently some manual labor was still required. Every time Lance got a break from training, Coran swooped in like an eagle on its prey, and then Lance found himself swiping floors, doing laundry or cleaning out Altean do-hickeys that he didn't even know what to do with. 

It left him with barely enough time to wolf down some food goo in between, and he slept like the dead as soon as he fell into bed. 

So it wasn't _his_ fault that he didn't find the time to visit Keith and didn't even realize it until a few days later, really. Being a paladin with extra cleaning duties and a beauty regimen was a lot of work, okay. Even someone as amazing as Lance could lose track of time for a while there. It was perfectly understandable and, again, in no way his fault. 

He felt awfully guilty. 

They had just been making some progress. What if that was lost again now, somehow? What if Keith took this as Lance not _wanting_ to see him and stopped talking again? 

No, they really couldn't have that. Lance would not be responsible for that. Not after all the hard work he'd invested to get them to this point. Nu-uh, no way. 

But actually finding the time to visit Keith and doing it was a whole other story. 

The first evening after realizing his lack of visits, everyone stayed together after dinner to share stories about Earth and Altea. It just happened. And it was incredibly nice and relaxing, especially so close to a huge mission, that Lance just couldn't make himself leave early. 

The second day, Lance got held up after practice with Hunk, and they stayed late to improve their team work as the Blaster Duo™—name provided by the great blue paladin himself—which took them a lot longer than expected. By the time Lance made it down to Keith's cell, the night cycle of the ship had long begun, and all Lance got to see was a curled up ball on the mattress, two purple ears sticking out on the top. He didn't have the heart to wake Keith up just to make it clear that he had visited. 

On the third evening, Lance ended practice early, so he'd be able to go and talk to Keith. It was a good, solid plan. It also didn't work. After practice, he'd hastily eaten some food goo first, and as soon as he was done, Coran found him, recruiting him for more cleaning efforts as apparently some clean-up mechanism somewhere had malfunctioned and left everything even worse than before. 

By day four, Lance was feeling even _more_ guilty. Also very sore from training and cleaning so much. And there were seven different bruises on his arm. Seven different, _very painful bruises, Hunk!_

Lance was already suited up for training and very determined to drop by Keith's cell this day, no matter what, when Allura announced that they had managed to pinpoint the exact location of the Galra base. They would attack as soon as possible. As in, in the next few hours. 

They didn't have much time before they would all have to get into their Lions and Allura would open a wormhole. But Lance was very determined, and very aware of the fact that if he got injured, he'd go into a healing pod and not see Keith for yet another day, a scenario that was entirely unacceptable. And so, he marched to Keith's cell majestically. Walking majestically kind of happened on its own when one was wearing the armor of the defenders of the universe. 

Lance raised his had to wave as he stepped in front of the cell. "Hey, Keith. Sorry I—" 

Cutting him off with a loud snarl, Keith jumped to his feet as soon as he saw Lance, glaring at the blue paladin. The furious sound tapered off into a hiss that bared all of Keith's sharp teeth. 

"Whoah, hey," Lance sputtered, taking a step back and raising his hands defensively. He'd been worried Keith might be upset, but all this aggression was a bit much. Hunk hadn't mentioned anything about Keith being angry or feral again when Hunk brought him food goo. "I'm _sorry_ I haven't been by, things were—" 

Another loud growl from the Galra made Lance shut up. The way Keith was flexing his claws couldn't mean anything good, surely. 

"I just wanted to drop in, we're about to go on a mission and I'll come over again once that's over—" Lance tried to pacify him, taking a tentative step forward which was, apparently, the wrong move. 

With a loud growl, Keith rushed forward, claws screeching over the space glass sharply. Keith swiped at the barrier again, hissing at Lance, yellow eyes filled with rage. 

"Hey, I told you, I'm really _sorry_ ," Lance repeated insistently, having to call out to be heard over the Galra's furious attempts of scratching his way out of the cell. 

It looked just like the first few days after they had gotten Keith back, the Galra attacking with every intention to kill, only stopped by the space glass. It made Lance's stomach churn. 

Was this his fault? Was Keith this angry because Lance hadn't come by? 

Either way, staying now only seemed to make things worse. 

"I'm really very sorry. I'll come by again as soon as possible, I promise!" Lance muttered dejectedly, carefully inching away from the cell, falling into a run as soon as Keith was out of sight, and only stopping when both his lungs and his legs were protesting the action, far, far away from the cell. 

Lance slumped against a wall, panting heavily. It took him some time to regain his breath. But breathing more calmly didn't help the tight ache in his chest. 

Fuck. _Fuck_. "Fuck," he hissed quietly. 

Was it really his fault that Keith was back to being an angry and murderous Galra? Had he ruined everything by not visiting for a few days? 

Keith had already been so insecure, so sure that they didn't really want him anymore now that he looked Galra. Of course Lance staying away would upset him. What had he been thinking? Fuck. 

Lance pulled off his helmet, wiping at his suspiciously wet eyes. 

He could only hope that Keith would forgive him. Wouldn't be upset over this for long. Would go back to talking to them, even if it was just one-worded answers. Even if Keith only accepted Lance's apology after Shiro intervened once more. Lance would take it all. Just as long as Keith would talk to him again, instead of trying to murder him. 

He was such an idiot. So unreasonably upset that Keith still liked Shiro better than him, _despite_ Lance spending more time at his cell. He shouldn't have just stayed away. Quiznak. 

He wiped at his eyes more furiously, swallowing down the tight knot in his throat, breathing through it. 

It would be okay. They had fucked up before, and even if it didn't always feel like it, Keith _was_ getting better. They would work through this. 

They had to. 

Keith was strong, and stubborn, and annoying. Keith wouldn't break over Lance being an insensitive jerk. 

Hopefully. 

With shaky fingers, Lance reached out for his helmet, pulling it back over his head. He took a deep breath. 

… Wait. 

What if Keith hadn't been upset—only—over Lance not coming by, but over the paladin armor? 

As far as Lance could recall, none of them had worn it around Keith since the time they had gone into the cell, knocked Keith out, and deactivated the tracking signal Keith's collar had been sending out. Back then, Keith hadn't reacted as negatively to the armor as he just had, but considering how badly things had played out, it wasn't unlikely that seeing them dressed like this now would be upsetting. Maybe Keith had just been worried something like that might happen again, or he had remembered them working on the collar. 

At the very least, it was a possible explanation for Keith's terrible reaction. So maybe Keith's anger just now wasn't _completely_ because of Lance not visiting for a few days. That was an option. Right? 

Maybe he could ask Keith later. If Keith accepted his apology then. 

The intercom system of the Castle came to life with a crackling noise of static, startling Lance out of his thoughts. As Allura's voice called all of them to their Lions, Lance decided he'd sort this out later. It wasn't like Keith was going anywhere. 

But for now, he had to focus. They had a mission ahead of them, and just like Keith, it was important. Finding Pidge's family mattered just as much as helping Keith. 

 

***** 

 

As far as Lance could tell, the mission went well. They destroyed the Galra base, Pidge obtained a lot of information that she'd have to sift through later, and it was a huge success all around. Hunk and Shiro had gotten out of it practically unscathed, as had Allura and Coran, seeing as the latter two hadn't left the Castle. 

Pidge had ended up with a few scratches, but wouldn't let anyone put her in a healing pod, insisting that she needed to sort through the Galra's data first. As they all understood her reasoning and also didn't want to end up electrocuted in their sleep, they accepted her choice. No pod for Pidge. 

Lance on the other hand was not so lucky. 

"I'm totally fine," he insisted as Hunk and Shiro gently manhandled him into a pod. 

"You have two cracked ribs," Hunk pointed out coldly, and as those two ribs were causing Lance a lot of pain and trouble breathing right now, he couldn't really argue with that. Sure, he had been hurt worse than this before, and one or more of them getting injured had gotten a lot more common ever since forming Voltron was no longer an option. Which sucked. But pain was pain, and Lance was pretty glad that he'd wake up soon feeling better. 

So he relented and let himself be put in the pod, after Shiro reminded him to be more attentive next time, in that stern but worried fatherly voice of his. 

Lance just nodded and didn't mention that he had only been distracted because one of the Galra soldiers had snarled at him, and the action had reminded him too much of Keith just a few hours before. 

No need to make the others worry over something silly like that. He just needed some time to get his mind back in order, that was all. 

 

***** 

 

When Lance woke up from the pod, he might have been a bit worried about visiting Keith again. Some might say anxious. He might have—not immediately gone. 

But to be fair, he'd gotten swooped up by Hunk as soon as he toppled out of the pod, literally and figuratively. Hunk was nice and soft and warm as he bear-hugged him, and there was always a hint of cold left after using the pods, so Lance felt that he was allowed to indulge a little. 

He got dragged to the kitchen to eat his mandatory ration of food goo, while Hunk took it upon himself to inform him of everything that had happened over the past two days that Lance had spent in the pod. Mostly business as usual. Allura had chased them through training exercises. Coran had kept up their good moods and told the occasional odd story. Shiro had tried to be the responsible leader, but failed completely at making Pidge get some sleep. Pidge was not sleeping. Pidge was going through the acquired data with a terrifying dedication and trying to stop her was not at all recommended. Keith had been a little tense the past few days, apparently. 

Hunk was upholding his role as being the best friend ever, as Lance informed him. 

It was, all in all, a very nice catching up session. But as all good things did, it ended eventually. And then there was nothing else Lance could think of doing that would further put off going to Keith's cell again. 

 

***** 

 

Lance was practically pressing himself against the wall, as he very carefully took a peek into the cell. Just to be safe. 

As Hunk had mentioned, Keith looked way more tense then usual, curled up tight and shoulders drawn up. He was also glaring at Lance with his yellow eyes, and while that particular image still made Lance shudder, he supposed he deserved it. 

Coughing nervously, he stepped fully in front of the cell, so Keith would see that he wasn't wearing his paladin armor this time. It seemed to help, at least a little. If Lance wasn't completely mistaken, Keith wasn't glaring at him quite as much anymore. 

As there was no immediate angry growling at his presence, Lance sat down on the ground, stretching out his legs. No need to make the upcoming conversation any more uncomfortable than it had to be. 

"So," he muttered, nervously rubbing his neck, not quite sure what to say. "I'm, uh. Very sorry I haven't been by for a while." 

Keith made a quiet growling noise that sounded more like a 'yeah, you should be' than truly angry. 

Lance chuckled nervously. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I really wish I had a good excuse for this, but I don't. Things have been busy, and I just—forgot. And then I came by and you were asleep, and then you were all growly and angry, and then we fought the Galra and I might have cracked a rib or two, and then I was in the healing pod. But once I got out, I came here like, almost right away?" Lance tried for another tense smile, shifting nervously. 

Keith actually didn't look overly angry, and he supposed that was a good thing. In fact, Keith's narrowed eyes looked more—contemplating?—than anything else. And there was that lip chewing again. Lance was actually kind of concerned for Keith's lips. Those Galra teeth looked awfully sharp. 

But that meant that Keith was about to say something—probably, hopefully—so Lance patiently waited through the next few beats of silence. 

"That was you?" Keith asked eventually, voice unsure and a little rough from disuse. 

"Huh?" Lance replied very intelligently, trying to mentally backtrack their recent conversation to find out what had Keith so confused. He was doing his best, but what went on in Keith's mind was still a complete mystery to him. 

"The—in the armor," Keith murmured, his frown deepening. 

"Uh, yeah? Yeah, that was me," Lance answered. How could Keith be confused about _that_? Lance changing clothes didn't make him a different person, and that hadn't been an issue before. 

Keith only frowned even more, looking as if he was drifting off into deep thought. 

Lance didn't get it. Now that Keith was talking to them, they got the occasional little scrap of information from him, but that only ever raised more questions. This way, they would never find out what was wrong with Keith. 

… Or would they? 

"Hey, Keith," Lance spoke up, waiting until Keith's ears flicked into his direction to know he had the Galra's attention. "I don't get why you're confused by that. Like, was it me wearing my armor? Or not coming by for a while? I don't get it. Like, at all. Can you tell me why this is bothering you so much?" 

Keith blinked at him, dumbfounded. Then his eyes narrowed again, all considering and critical. 

Yeah, okay, that had probably been too much honesty there. Now Keith would think that Lance was prying. Great going, Lance. Keith had already talked unexpectedly much, and he just had to go and ruin it. 

"You're—you want me to stay here?" Keith asked after some hesitation, sounding unsure. 

It had nothing to do with Lance's question, but Lance would take it. He nodded resolutely. "Yeah, I do. We all do." 

Keith's face scrunched up into some weird, unreadable expression. "You're Lance," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. 

Lance nearly choked on his own spit. He might have made some strangled, dying-bird-like squawking noise. Keith gave him a very weirded out look. 

Lance did not care. 

"You remember my name," he choked out, amazement and a prickling warmth spreading through his chest. A grin was stretching out on his face, so wide that it almost hurt. 

Keith shrugged, ears pressing flat against his head. He looked oddly uncomfortable. Almost guilty. That reaction was another thing Lance didn't get, but as happy as he was—and he was so going to tell Hunk and the others about this as soon as he left—he didn't want to make Keith regret this, regret coming out of his shell and talking to him. 

So he took a deep breath and tried his hardest to calm down. "Okay, sorry," he muttered, pressing both hands against the space glass. "This kind of was a big deal for me just now. But I didn't mean to cut you off. You—you were probably going somewhere with that, right?" 

Keith glared at him. After a few moments, his ears perked up and he nodded. Just one sharp, small movement. But with how attentively Lance was staring at him, there was no way he'd miss something like that. 

Keith sucked in his lower lip to subject it to his sharp teeth once more, letting out a tense breath. "You're—the kind Lance," he murmured. And while part of Lance was still glowing with happiness at hearing Keith use his name, now he was mostly confused. And as if that statement alone wasn't confusing enough already, Keith added on, "I can't tell you apart." 

"Keith, buddy," he sighed, slumping forward, "I'm trying here, but you lost me. Who is it that you can't tell apart? Can you tell me?" 

Somehow, Keith managed to make his next breath sound annoyed. It was probably a very special Keith talent. "The kind ones. The cruel ones," he muttered. 

"Keith, I'm having a lot of trouble following your thoughts here," Lance complained, as emphatically as possible. 

"Yeah. Me too," Keith hissed, curling up tighter. 

Lance swallowed down his next question, feeling like he might have hit a wound spot there. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm really trying. I just—I want to help, but even when you talk I don't get what you're saying." 

Keith glared at him, growling quietly. 

Lance sighed. How was he supposed to help like this? When Keith's odd comments only made things more confusing? He got that that had to be frustrating for Keith, too. But what was he supposed to do? 

"I'm Lance?" he tried, feeling a bit ridiculous. But maybe he just had to work with these strange comments Keith was throwing out to him. "I want you here. With us. I guess I'm—the kind Lance, then?" Well, that was definitely a weird thing to say. Keith didn't look all that impressed, either. "The other day, in the paladin armor, that was me, too. Same person. Wouldn't have been any different. But I guess you—didn't see it that way?" 

After a long moment, Keith gave another sharp, little nod. "Can't tell you apart," he repeated quietly. "It was—It was the armor. Before. The ones with armor would fight. The other ones were cruel or asking. But now it's—different." 

"Before? Do you mean when—when the Galra had you?" Lance asked quietly. Keith was—revealing a lot of things today. First Lance's name and now this? Lance wondered what had brought that on. 

Keith nodded once again, curling up even more. 

"Okay, so I'm. Not pretending I get what you're trying to tell me with this. But how do those 'kind ones' figure into that?" he asked carefully. 

"Weren't there," Keith muttered. "I thought—I thought, sometimes. That you were there. Saw you coming for me. A lot. But you never did." 

"I'm sorry, Keith," Lance murmured. "We shouldn't have taken so long to find you." 

"Not you" Keith growled, looking oddly upset. "Not you. The—the witch." 

Lance gave him a confused look. They were in _space_. Not some sort of magical story. But the word was oddly familiar to him, for some reason. Not that witches had anything to do with space, but he was sure he'd heard something like that mentioned before—Shiro. Shiro had mentioned a witch. One that had fought him by drawing up illusions. A lot about Keith 'seeing them' suddenly made a whole lot more sense. 

A lot about Keith not _trusting_ them suddenly made a whole lot more sense. 

"Haggar?" Lance asked, immediately regretting it when Keith flinched violently at the name. "Sorry! Sorry. Shouldn't have just blurted that out. I, uh. Thank you for telling me about that. That probably wasn't easy for you." 

Keith made a growly little noise that Lance took as a 'damn right, it wasn't'. 

Lance was just considering how to end this very successful conversation before he accidentally ruined it, but then Keith was chewing on his lower lip again. And, trained like Pavlov's dog, Lance stayed where he was to wait what Keith had to say. 

"You're—I thought you were hers, too," Keith murmured quietly. There was that awfully guilty expression again. "I fell for it. Too often. Now I'm—maybe you're not. Maybe. But then—there are cruel ones here, too." 

Lance gave Keith a confused a look. "Cruel ones? You mean, like, illusions? But that can't be. Keith, we got you back. Hagg—there aren't any Galra on this ship, except you. No more illusions, okay? Or—do you mean someone actually _was_ cruel to you? Here? On the ship?" 

Keith just shot him a contemplative frown and didn't say anything. 

"Keith! Come on!" Lance complained. "If something actually happened, you have to tell me! Otherwise, I can't help. Did something like those illusions happen after we got you back?" 

Keith shrugged. 

"Keith!" Lance demanded, feeling the frustration rise up inside of him. 

Keith just hissed at him. 

With an exasperated grunt, Lance got to his feet. "Fine! Be that way. Don't tell me this absolutely crucial information then." He was just about ready to stomp away, but then stopped himself. 

He now had even more questions than before, yes. But Keith looked miserable, curled up as he was, and Lance didn't want him to feel that way. He didn't want Keith to regret opening up. He let out a slow, controlled breath. 

"Sorry," he murmured. "I just—I really do appreciate it when you talk to me. It means a lot, really. It just feels like a 'one step forward, two steps back' kind of thing sometimes, and we keep making mistakes that set you off really badly, and we all want to help you so much but we don't know _how_ and that's just. Really frustrating. Though being locked up in that cell is probably way more frustrating, huh? I shouldn't be the one complaining in this situation. You have it way worse. I just. I'm. Thank you for talking to me about this. We'll help you get through this. I promise. And then we'll all go kick Zarkon's ass for you. And for Shiro. And Pidge's family. For Allura and Coran. And Hunk's girlfriend, too. Yeah?" 

Instead of a resounding 'yes', all Lance got as an answer from Keith was a short glance, purple face scrunched up into something unreadable. 

Deciding that he had pressed his luck enough, Lance eventually trudged off. 

* 

He told the team about Haggar using her illusions against Keith. That Keith had seen all of them, apparently. 

He didn't mention that Keith had maybe seen something similar on the Castle ship, be it an illusion or—something else. He didn't want to believe that anyone on the team would actually _not_ want Keith back. But—just in case, he would keep it in mind. He owed Keith that much, for telling him about it at all. 

 

***** 

 

When Lance went down to Keith's cell two days later, he found Hunk already sitting there, leaning against the space glass and looking like death warmed over as he talked to Keith. 

"Dude, what the hell happened to you?" Lance asked, concern in his voice as he sat down next to his friend. 

Hunk sighed deeply, slumping forward. "Shiro and I talked Pidge into getting some sleep. I swear I lost like ten years of my life there. Also, if she stabs me one of these days, you can have my comics if you ever make it back to Earth." 

"Thanks, man," Lance sniffed tearfully, patting Hunk's shoulder with a lot of feeling. "You're the best." 

"Of course I am," Hunk muttered, nodding decisively before he looked up with a guilty smile. "On that positive note—I might currently be telling Keith that story I promised to never tell anyone, ever." 

"You're the _worst_!" Lance corrected himself immediately, voice pitching up into a shriek. "You swore to never tell anyone about the avocado thing! I'm pretty sure you're breaking like several Best Friend laws right now! I'm replacing you!" 

"Actually, I wasn't talking about that, but the glitter incident," Hunk pointed out—far too late, as Keith's ears had already perked up at the mention of the avocado thing, and Lance could just _feel_ that even more of his embarrassing secrets would be spilled by his ex-best friend today. 

"Why are you ruining the image Keith has of me as a suave and cool guy," he whined, faintly picking up on the sound of Keith snorting. He fought a short but vicious internal battle, then ultimately decided that this would be the first time he ignored Keith doing something since getting him back from the Galra. 

"I'm only doing this in the interest of bonding! I swear he was smiling over it earlier," Hunk defended himself. Lance immediately looked over to the Galra, but there was no such thing as a smile on Keith's face. 

"Liar," he hissed, hands grabbing over his heart to emphasize how betrayed he felt. 

"Well, he's not smiling _now_ because you interrupted the story," Hunk pointed out. 

Lance, being the suave and cool guy that he was, replied, "You're dead to me." 

Hunk shrugged, unimpressed, then turned back to Keith. "Anyway, where was I. So, Lance really wanted to impress that Cynthia girl, and promised her he would show up in a fireman costume at the party to match, and I quote, 'how flaming hot she was'." 

Lance hissed at his—former and also deceased—best friend, slapping Hunk's arm in a desperate last effort to stop him, but to no avail. Hunk waved him off like a large, outstandingly handsome fly, and kept going, sealing Lance's fate. 

"Now, turns out he was way late, it being Halloween and all, and the only fireman costume left was a _female_ fireman costume. Firewoman. A _sexy_ fireman." Hunk grinned. Lance whimpered. "Short skirt, large cleavage, even heels with it! And Lance, not wanting to back down, actually shows up at the party in it. He filled it out nicely, though, to be fair." 

Hunk patted Lance's shoulder amiably. Lance graced the gesture with a long-suffering sigh of acknowledgement. He _had_ looked pretty nice in it. 

"So, there he is, at the party. Cynthia was not impressed with the skirt, and I had to listen to Lance whine about it for all of thirty minutes until this other girl started talking to him, Elvira—" 

"Emily," Lance corrected quietly. 

"Emily," Hunk went on without missing a beat, "and started chatting him up. Things went well for an unexpectedly long amount of time. Like, a full hour maybe. Then, Lance decided to put on the helmet that came with the costume, except something at some point went wrong, for reasons unknown, and next thing we know, he's covered in pink glitter from head to toe. No idea who put it in there. I took my eyes off him for only one minute, I swear. Now, Lance was not about to let that stop him, but Emily really didn't want to share his fate, so she turned him down for the night. Gave him her number though." 

"I had to scrub that glitter off of me for _hours_. I swear sometimes I still find some on myself, to this very day," Lance whined. 

"He hugged me like two weeks after the incident, and then _I_ was glittering," Hunk backed him up. 

"People might leave you, but body glitter won't," Lance stated his hard-won knowledge, nodding sagely. 

There was a small sound from their side, something between a loud exhale and a quiet snort. When Lance looked over at Keith, the Galra was actually smiling. 

_Smiling_. All sweet and content and happy. 

An indignant choking noise came from Lance as air got unexpectedly stuck in his throat. Fuck. _Fuck_. His face felt too warm. It had no reason to feel that warm. Was that a symptom of suffocating to death? Oh dear, this was it, he was dying. 

"Dude, you okay?" Hunk asked after his own chuckling had died down, half amused and half concerned. "The story wasn't _that_ embarrassing. Or did I overshare?" 

"Nope. No, no, I'm fine," Lance hurriedly choked out, sucking in a sharp breath. "It's fine." 

"Okay then," Hunk muttered. "If you're sure. Because if you're up to it, I can totally go for the next one." 

"Noooo," Lance whined, dramatically slumping against the space glass, grasping at his chest. "Hunk!" 

"Listen up, Keith!" Hunk declared loudly, his wide grin back in place. "Time for me to tell you about that time Lance accidentally got his mom 90 avocados. It all started when his nephew—" 

* 

Lance suffered through the retelling of the avocado incident and several more incidents quietly. Okay, fine—maybe 'quiet' wasn't the correct word for it. 

By the time Hunk got to the story of 8 year old Lance trying and failing to build a snow unicorn—ignoring the complete lack of snow in Cuba in all of his 8 year old resolve—Keith actually started snickering. It were hitched little sounds, so quiet and muffled that Lance barely noticed them over Hunk's loud guffawing, having to repeatedly hit his friend's shoulder for him to quiet down before they could hear them. 

As soon as they were both quiet and staring at him, Keith stopped snickering very quickly, much to Lance's disgruntlement. 

He and Hunk made sure to complain loudly, and then launched into even more stories to get Keith to laugh again. 

But secretly, part of Lance thought that Keith not snickering might be for the best. His heart had done something decidedly strange at the sound. That couldn't be healthy. 

 

***** 

 

That evening, when he was alone with Keith, Lance finally felt ready to ask a question that had been bothering him for a while now. 

"So," he started, unsure of how to go on. Keith was looking at him, ears perked up, and after a few moments of hesitance, Lance decided that was enough encouragement for him. "When you first started talking to us, that was—that was because of my singing, right? And like, I know my singing is awesome and all, but. I don't get it. And I'm trying to. Because I want to know what's going on in your head. But I really, really don't get it. So I'd be really happy if you could tell me—why did that help?" 

Keith blinked at him. Lance would have assumed that Keith was maybe ignoring him, if it hadn't been for the nervous twitching of his ears giving him away. 

A few moments of silence dragged by. 

"It was," Keith started, voice barely above a whisper, so quiet that Lance held his breath as to not accidentally miss something. "—ridiculous." 

"What," Lance asked flatly. 

A small growl rose from Keith's chest, sounding annoyed. 

"Sorry," Lance muttered. "I'm trying to understand, I promise. Maybe your clues are just too cryptic. Or I'm too slow on the uptake. I just—don't see it. What made my singing more important to you than all those heartfelt talks?" 

"Heard those," Keith muttered, voice even quieter than before. His ears sank down to lie flat against his head, as he curled up more. 

Looking at Keith's defensively hunched-up position, Lance felt like he'd done something wrong. He hadn't meant to make Keith feel—bad. He took a moment for himself to think things over. 

It was obvious that Keith was still not really comfortable with talking to them. Every word from him was spoken with a reason, carefully picked out after some thinking and lip chewing. And maybe for that reason, Keith tended to get upset when they didn't understand and asked even _more_ questions. 

Maybe Lance just needed to think back. Keith had already told them some important things about his time being a prisoner of the Galra. If he didn't add anything new now, maybe Lance already had all the information he needed. 

"Is this about those—illusions?" he asked eventually. His throat felt too tight at the question, and he couldn't quite tell why. 

Keith's ears twitched upwards for a moment before sinking back down, yellow eyes settling on Lance. Almost imperceptibly, the Galra nodded. 

Lance swallowed. He wasn't quite sure how much he should assume from that tidbit of information—it seemed reasonable that the illusions of them that Haggar had conjured up would talk to Keith, for—whatever purpose, leading to Keith distrusting them so much. 

Then maybe Lance's singing was just something that Haggar hadn't come up with. Maybe that was why Keith had decided at that moment that he was the _real_ Lance. 

Or maybe Lance was wrong. 

"Thank you for telling me," Lance muttered. "I'm sorry for reminding you of—that, but I swear, we'll help you get past this. I don't think you'd want to sit in that boring old cell forever." 

Keith looked up at him from his curled up position. Lance wasn't sure if there was honest hope in those yellow eyes or if it was just his own wishful thinking. 

"Thanks," Keith muttered quietly. 

Something in Lance's brain short-circuited. Somehow, he managed to nod numbly in acknowledgment and walk away from the cell. His body had to maneuver itself on autopilot until he got into bed, as his brain was too busy replaying that one word over and over and _over_ again. 

 

***** 

 

Lance was innocently eating his lunch goo the next day when the doors burst open, and Pidge stormed in with all the determination of a woman going into war, eyes ablaze with a slightly mad sheen. Lance could see Hunk and Shiro shrink down as she approached. 

"I'm glad you got some sleep, Pidge," Shiro greeted her, his smile tight, only to be immediately shut off by her aggressive hand-waving. 

"No no no!" she cut off him and anyone else who might have wanted to say something. "I don't care that I slept, I—I left the algorithm running before I went to bed and I—" 

"Pidge," Shiro started, something almost hopeful in his tone as Pidge's eyes filled up with tears, her voice coming out strangled and watery. 

"I think I have a lead on them," she choked out. 

 

***** 

 

**{{{**

Keith had initially hoped that over time, things would get easier. That he'd get used to the pain, the weakness, the hunger, the constant fear that they might be able to read his every thought. 

He was wrong. 

If anything, it became harder to hold on. His grip on time was slipping, and he was now counting how often he'd passed out and how often he'd woken up in a healing pod, instead of a vague measure of days or weeks. 

Sometimes, while he was sitting in his cell or being tortured, awful headaches would start up and have him scrambling to banish any sort of memory from his mind. He knew that they had already seen so much, way too much, but he would do his damn best not to give them any more. 

It made _holding on_ so much harder. 

When searing metal pushed through his flesh, when his bones were broken, when his limbs were twisted and pulled around, he could no longer make himself hold on by thinking of his team. 

They would come for him. He couldn't allow himself to doubt that. 

But he couldn't allow himself to believe it, either. Couldn't allow himself to fall for another illusion and reveal even more information than he already had. 

Holding on through the pain was a lot more difficult to do when he had to push down on any sort of positive thought at the same time. It made simply giving in and sinking into the darkness so much more enticing. Hours and days blurred into each other that way. 

Once, when Keith woke up, something was different. He could still feel the aftereffects of black electricity cursing through his body, the painful way all his muscles protested, how his burnt skin stretched tight and tore painfully. But there was something cold around his throat now, smooth like metal and just tight enough for him to feel that it was there. 

There was no denying that it was a collar. 

He could feel it every time he moved, and it made his blood boil with anger in a way none of the other chains that held him ever did. In an ironic way, he almost felt as if he should be grateful for it, since that anger was what made him try to fight back for the first time in—long. 

But beating down two soldier drones with shaking limbs and running out into the hallway didn't get him very far, as electricity sparked out from the collar, searing through his body and forcing his muscles to give out on him after only a few seconds of freedom. 

After Keith woke up once again in his cell, he tried his hardest to pry the damn thing off of him. His attempts got him several shocks, a bruised throat, and a broken finger, but the collar wouldn't budge. 

Time blurred on and after many more times of passing out, then waking up in his cell, he barely noticed the tight sensation around his throat anymore. 

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who else is glad that Keith is finally, like. Doing things. Instead of never doing anything, ever :')
> 
> So now the team knows a bit more about what happened to Keith. And you guys know even more about what happened to Keith. (And I'm the only one who knows everything >:D) And things are finally, actually moving forward. So thanks to you guys for sticking aorund for so long. Your reward is my own hard-won knowledge that glitter stays with you Forever, presented by Lance.
> 
> And we get more side plot, yay. Before you get all excited, that stuff with Pidge's family is going to drag on for several more chapters. But we'll get there.
> 
> Have you guys seen the second season yet? I feel ready to flush like half of my plans for this fic down the drain. So much happened. Spoiler ahead: I totally called that thing about Haggar being Altean. Not that anyone cares or that it is of any relevance, but I needed to brag. So.
> 
> Regarding the next chapter, you can look forward to more progress. And side plot. And a scene between just Keith and Hunk that is incredibly dear to me. Especially now that Hunk got so little development in s2. @series writers, how dare you take my son from me :'(  
> Anyway, chapter 9 should be up in a month at most, as usual. Maybe earlier, if I can make myself sit down and write over the coming semester break. The Big Dramatic Reveal chapters are giving me trouble, but we'll get there.  
> (Also, no, the blanket thing is also no about Zarkon's cape :P But good guess, you guys)


	9. Take my hand through the flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance chuckled nervously. "Keith, you ready?" he asked, voice coming out a little high from nerves. "Because I have a lot of faith in you, I want you to know that, but I'd also really appreciate it if I come out of this with all of my fingers attached. I just did my nails, you know? So I don't want to like, startle you or anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from '[Sucker for Pain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IO2aTF7ygPE)' by Imagine Dragons, Lil Wayne & Wiz Khalifa. Because I needed a title, then we listened to the song at poledancing, and it seemed fitting enough. So here we are.
> 
> This chapter has been edited by the wonderful [whoopsitsmeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whoopsitsmeme/pseuds/whoopsitsmeme), thank you so much!  
> Also sorry for taking so long to upload this. Writing Big Dramatic Reveal chapter is difficult and I've been procrastinating on it, so it took me forever. And this chapter isn't even as long as the other ones <.<;
> 
> My whining aside, I got so many kudos and incredibly nice comments and I just want you to know, I love all of you so much for that. Your feedback gives me life :*

Pidge's news on her family officially ended their previously calm times. Apparently, there was still more information she had to sort through to figure out where _exactly_ the two prisoners, who everyone hoped were Sam and Matt Holt, were currently held. But as soon as she could give them a location, they would have to be ready to take off. They all _wanted_ to be ready. 

While Pidge was working day and night, quite literally, she was busy. Shiro, however, wasn't so lucky. Lance honestly felt for the poor guy. It was obvious that he cared for the Holts as well, and that he was ready to shake out of his own skin from sheer nerves now that there was a chance of saving them. These days, Shiro was training more than ever before, and Lance had to admit that it was scarily intense. Hunk had recruited him and Allura for an intervention once, and Shiro had looked about ready to fight them to get to the training deck. 

He hadn't, though. With some much needed assistance from Coran, the four of them had eventually managed to convince Shiro to get some rest. Some talk about how he wouldn't be able to save the Holts if he trained himself into an early grave now. Couldn't just go at it like "an overzealous ῾Riv" all day, according to Coran. At least not without actually being a ῾Riv, which he was not. When Shiro had been too tired to imitate the growling sound at the beginning of the word, he had finally relented and gone to bed to get some much needed sleep. 

Lance was glad that had worked, but not sure how he felt about his new position as a responsible member of the team. Hunk had patted his back in wise understanding, muttering an excuse that it was only temporary, as surely Shiro would be back to his old responsible self soon. Having to deal with the Keith thing and now a possibility of saving the Holts was just a bit much at once. 

Lance was willing to accept that, especially since Hunk was doing most of the Responsible People work himself, and not actually relying on Lance to do it. He needed no part of that, thanks. He felt he was doing more than enough by mastering Altean washing machines and providing everyone with clean clothes in addition to clean floors. Which was not an easy job and took up a lot of time, by the way. They were all fucking _welcome_. 

He was quietly thanking God every day for Altean washing machines and how they were capable of cleaning away all that purple fur from Keith's suits, because honestly, Lance would have _not_ done that by hand. No thanks. 

With Hunk in charge of bringing Keith his meals, and their singing sessions on pause due to all the training and paladin duties, bringing Keith towels and nice clean space outfits was the only thing that gave Lance an at least somewhat regular reason to drop by the cell. 

It was a nice surprise when he saw Hunk already there this time. The two of them hadn't managed to visit Keith together often lately. Which was a shame, really. 

"Hey Lance," Hunk greeted him with a wide smile. Keith glanced over at him. Lance smiled back. 

"Hi," he answered, not bothering to sit down as he had huge plans for the day. "So, I was thinking, as things have been going so well lately." 

"I don't like where this is going, buddy," Hunk murmured, but Lance was determined and simply ignored the unjust criticism for now. 

"Keith," he went on, unperturbed. "You know it's us, right? So how would you feel about working up to coming out of that cell?" 

His answer was a sharp hiss. 

"Okay, okay, fine, then how about one of us coming inside to you?" 

Another hiss. 

"Alright, I see, we're not feeling like making any progress today, are we," Lance sighed, sitting down on the floor after all, now that his plans had been swiftly ended. 

"Lance, why would you even suggest that? I wasn't here when Shiro tried to go inside, but what I heard about it sounded like it was a complete disaster! There's no need to repeat that," Hunk protested, a worried frown on his face. 

"Of course there is!" Lance grumbled immediately. "I mean—we can't just keep Keith in there forever. We'll have to work on this _eventually_. Might as well do it now." 

"Don't you think this is way too soon?" Hunk asked, not looking nearly as convinced as Lance felt. 

"Well, what else should we wait for? Keith already told us about what happened to him. That he saw illusions of us coming for him. It makes sense that he had trouble trusting us. But now that he knows it's really us, things should be fine!" 

"You know, that sounds kind of exactly like Shiro's reasoning when he went in there. And nearly had his head taken off, as much as I don't want to remind anyone of that," Hunk muttered. 

Lance snorted. "It's not going to get any better if we don't at least _try_ ," he argued, crossing his arms, then turning around to the Galra. "Hey, Keith, what do you think?" 

Keith blinked at him with wide yellow eyes, looking as if he'd just been deep in thought himself, startled by Lance addressing him. Then he bared his teeth. "Don't," he murmured quietly. 

"Come oooon," Lance whined, leaning forward against the space glass. "It's a good plan. How much longer do you plan on staying in there, huh? You know it's us. You wouldn't just attack us now, right?" 

Keith gave him a warning growl. "Not how it works," he hissed, looking decidedly unhappy. 

With a sigh, Lance leant back, swallowing down his next complaint. He didn't really get what Keith's problem was right now. But pushing would only make the Galra angrier, and that was the last thing anyone needed at the moment. 

"You don't want us to come inside?" Lance repeated, receiving a sharp little nod from Keith. He ran a hand through his hair. This was not at all going as well as he had planned it out. What a pity. 

But he was used to setbacks when working with Keith by now, and maybe there was something else he could do. 

"Alright, then let's start smaller," he suggested, preening a little when Keith glanced at him for half a second, looking almost intrigued. Or at least not quite as growl-y anymore. 

"Lance, I'm _really_ not sure if I like where this is going," Hunk muttered, the worried crease on his forehead growing. 

Lance waved him off. "Relax. I put a lot of thought into this, it's the perfect plan. So maybe, for whatever reason, Keith doesn't want us to come inside. But we don't have to actually go into the cell to _work_ on entering the cell." He proudly gestured towards the hatch on ground level, where they usually pushed goo rations and clothing into the cell. "We can definitely fit our hands through there. Probably a whole arm." 

The way Keith's ears went down flat against his head and Hunk's eyes widened in shock wasn't quite the positive reaction Lance had hoped for. Whatever. It _was_ a brilliant plan, and they would have to see that. Eventually. 

"Okay, but what if Keith attacks us then? He doesn't seem like he is fully in control of that," Hunk pointed out warily. "I really don't want to lose a finger like this. Or more." 

"Have to pull it out quick, then," Lance shrugged, then looked over at Keith. "You totally wouldn't try to claw off our fingers, right, buddy?" 

Keith growled at him. Lance wasn't sure what exactly that meant this time. 

"Lance, don't spring this on him all at once," Hunk muttered. "Two weeks ago, he was barely even talking to us. At least give him some time to get used to this idea of yours." 

Lance decided to take a page out of Keith's book and growled at Hunk in dismay. 

Hunk was not impressed. "Hey, Keith," he asked, voice soft, "how about we wait with Lance's idea until tomorrow? Would that be alright with you?" 

Keith frowned at them for a long moment. Then, he gave a small shrug. 

"Okay then," Hunk murmured. "That's good." 

"How nice of you not to shut me down completely," Lance grumbled sullenly, receiving a light punch to the shoulder from Hunk for it. 

"I get that you're excited that Keith is getting better, but don't overdo it, dude. We've had more than enough drama because of silly mistakes we made," Hunk chastised him gently. 

"Yes, _mom_ ," Lance muttered. He didn't feel like putting this off any longer, but—well, he could admit that Hunk maybe had a point there. He might have gotten a little carried away, now that Keith was talking and smiling and behaving more like an actual person again. 

But all of that also made it more difficult to justify keeping him in a cell. Maybe that was what had lead Shiro to his rash decision to enter the cell back then, too. 

Keeping a non-verbal, furious Galra locked away was one thing, but doing it to a slowly improving Keith? That was another thing entirely. 

And it didn't sit well with Lance at all. 

 

***** 

 

The next day, he felt giddy with excitement as he walked down to the cell and greeted Keith. Hunk showed up a few minutes later. 

They had agreed on trying this while both of them were here, so they could give each other emotional support and, if necessary, first aid. Hopefully the latter wouldn't be needed, but Hunk had insisted. 

And now that the time had come for Lance to push his hand into the cell, he was kind of glad Hunk tended to worry too much and prepare for everything. 

Keith looked even tenser than usual, giving the two of them a wary look. Lance wondered if Keith felt anxious about this, too. 

He chuckled nervously. "Keith, you ready?" he asked, voice coming out a little high from nerves. "Because I have a lot of faith in you, I want you to know that, but I'd also really appreciate it if I come out of this with all of my fingers attached. I just did my nails, you know? So I don't want to like, startle you or anything." 

He couldn't read the glare Keith gave him in reply. But then, Keith got up and walked over to the corner furthest from the hatch, sitting back down there. 

What. 

Hunk looked just as confused by that as Lance felt. What was that supposed to mean? 

It had to mean something. Keith didn't change his spot just for fun. Keith _definitely_ didn't move as far as possible away from the hatch just before Lance pushed in his hand, just out of a random mood. 

"Maybe he's trying to tell us he won't attack you?" Hunk suggested carefully. "I mean, he doesn't look scared or anything. A little angry maybe. But he always looks a little angry. So maybe he wants to give you enough time to pull away in case he does attack?" 

Lance shrugged. Hunk's guess was as good as his. And Keith did look a little jumpy, like one wrong move would send him off into an attack. 

"In case Hunk's interpretation is right— thanks, buddy," Lance half joked with a wry smile. He really did value his fingers, after all. 

Actually reaching into the cell was more nerve-wracking than he had anticipated. He shouldn't have put it off. This was not good. Not at all brave and heroic. Damn it. 

He sent one last glance over to Keith. The Galra was staring right back, yellow eyes fixed to Lance's hand most likely, shoulders drawn up with tension and purple ears flat against his mullet. 

Keith was nervous about this, too. That only made sense. The only person to enter that cell over the nearly seven weeks since finding Keith had been Shiro, and that had gone anything but well. Of course Keith would be tense now. But he had still moved away, presumably to make this easier on Lance, minimize the chances of him hurting Lance, and that had to count for something. 

Lance took one more deep breath, then pushed his hand through the hatch. 

He waited, tense. 

But nothing happened. Hunk was stiff as a statue next to him, and Keith's eyes were almost comically wide as he stared at Lance's hand. But no one dared to move. 

Lance could honestly not tell how much time passed that way. There was no sound but the three of them breathing quietly. 

Eventually, his arm began to hurt from the awkward angle he was holding it at, and he very slowly adjusted his position so he could place his hand down on the floor of Keith's cell. Another moment of tense silence passed. 

"So," Lance spoke up, coughing nervously. "I'm going to call this a win, then?" 

Keith, if anything, curled up even tighter. 

Lance hadn't expected any grand gestures from him, but he still didn't really like that reaction. Indifferent, fine—but Keith looked almost scared with his wide eyes and the way he sat there. And that hadn't been Lance's goal with this. 

"Hey, Keith," he asked, making an effort to keep his voice soft. "Is this okay? If it's too much, I can—" 

Keith cut him off with a sharp hiss. 

Lance flinched, pulling his hand out halfway before he could stop himself. 

For some reason, Keith relaxed a little after that. Lance was way past pretending that he understood what Keith was thinking. 

Maybe Lance's hand in his cell had just been too much for Keith for now. Too much of _what_ was anyone's guess, really. Did Keith see it as a threat? Was it them entering 'his space' that upset him? Or was he just nervous that he might attack them and cause actual harm? 

Lance had no idea. He'd have to give that some more thought. Make more plans for how to help Keith. 

He had a feeling that he had asked enough of Keith for the day. When Hunk suggested that they should leave and give Keith some time to himself, he didn't protest. 

 

***** 

 

Many things could be said about Lance, but he was nothing if not determined. Between training and cleaning duties he still couldn't come by the cell as often as he would have liked, but he made an effort to show up at least once every day—day cycle, whatever—and most of the time, he did. 

He got the occasional answer from Keith, and after a bit of initial hesitancy, worked more on Plan 'Hand through the Hatch'. With some support from Hunk, who, after his earlier misgivings about Lance's great plan, had volunteered his hands as well. 

Keith was very tense during the next few tries, but eventually he relaxed. Then they would have their mostly one-sided conversations with one hand resting in Keith's cell. 

It seemed that Keith slowly got used to it. Lance considered that a huge step forward. Sure, Keith had hissed at him like an angry cat that one time he'd suggested _actually_ coming inside, but hey, baby steps. They could work their way up to 'Arms through the Hatch' first and then go from there. 

 

***** 

 

"Pidge went to sleep," Hunk muttered at dinner, looking worried. 

"I'm glad she is getting some rest," Allura answered, after swallowing her food goo. 

Hunk shook his head, the crease on his forehead deepening. "No, I don't think that's it. She usually doesn't take breaks from a task until she's done. And far as I know, she didn't tell anyone anything before she fell asleep." 

"We'll ask her once she wakes up," Shiro offered. Lance couldn't help but notice how worried he looked. It was no surprise, really, even though Shiro was trying not to show it. If Pidge had discovered something and didn't want to talk about it, it likely wouldn't be anything good. 

"It can't be too serious, or she'd already demand we attack Zarkon and bring him to justice," Lance joked, stretching his smile extra wide. Unfortunately, Shiro didn't look all that cheered up. 

"I'm sure that if it was something of grave importance, Pidge would have told us right away instead of going to sleep," Coran pointed out, and finally some of the tension left Shiro's shoulders. 

"Coran is right," Allura agreed, giving Shiro an encouraging smile. "If she had found something important, she would have let us know. And whatever it is, we will find out soon enough." 

Shiro nodded. "I know that. It's just—" 

"Dude," Lance cut him off, bumping his arm against Shiro's. "You're worried. We get it. But it's not going to change anything for now, and you need to eat and sleep just as much as Pidge. Don't force me to be the Responsible Paladin again. I will leave the team, I swear to God." 

"I'm sorry, Lance, that won't happen again. I promise," Shiro chuckled, a small smile finally appearing on his lips. 

After that, the conversation finally drifted away from Pidge and her possible discoveries to Hunk explaining to Allura that no, responsibility was not a looked down upon concept on Earth, that was just Lance being Lance. 

That made dinner a lot more enjoyable. They really needed to watch their conversation topics, and do their best to keep things light. Missing two paladins already made everything depressing enough. 

 

***** 

 

"I'm very sorry, you know," Hunk muttered quietly, when he was alone at the cell. 

The Galra gave him a curious look, yellow eyes wide and questioning. 

Hunk sighed heavily, wringing his hands. He'd played this conversation out in his head dozens of times, but now that he was finally having it, he still couldn't find the words. 

Why was apologizing so difficult? 

"When they—When they captured you. It was just us. It was supposed to be a _simple_ mission. I know we didn't have any weapons but I still wish—I wish I could have _done_ something. Anything. But I didn't. I got knocked out right away, and—I don't even know what happened then. When I woke up, I was covered by some debris, hidden, and you were gone. And I couldn't _find_ you anymore." 

He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to calm down. Keith was giving him the same wide-eyed look as before, looking not nearly as upset as Hunk felt. Hunk wondered if that was a good or a bad thing. 

"I just. Maybe I could have done something. If I hadn't gotten knocked out, you would have had some support. Maybe they wouldn't have captured you then. And we wouldn't be in this mess right now." 

He sighed again, placing one hand against the translucent forcefield that kept Keith trapped. That made Keith their prisoner. How could they dare to do this to Keith, after everything he had suffered through? 

Hunk swallowed. His mouth felt dry. "I'm not proud of it, but I'm—grateful. That it wasn't me. I hate it that I am. But I can't help it. It's obvious how much you've been through, and a part of me is just so—so _glad_ that none of that happened to me." 

He shuddered. Keith was still giving him that same, neutral look. It was a little unnerving. Hunk chuckled nervously, rubbing at his eyes with the hand that wasn't resting against the forcefield. His throat felt too tight. 

"Sometimes I think—it should have been me. I don't know how well I would have held up, but. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of this. Lance can complain all day about how rude and standoffish you are and how you're a stubborn lone wolf, but I think—if you hadn't been trying to protect me that day, maybe they wouldn't have caught you. So, maybe it should have been me. Maybe I should be the one in that cell right now." 

Hunk tried for another chuckle, but it came out scratchy and wrong. This was a miserable apology. Keith was still looking at him, his yellow eyes unreadable, and Hunk would give anything to know what he was thinking. Keith was so different after they found him. And not just in a physical sense. 

"You'd be dead." 

Keith's voice was quiet and a little rough, but he sounded absolutely certain. 

It took some effort for Hunk not to literally have his jaw dropping. He coughed into his hand to cover himself, then made an effort to calm down once more. 

Those words were definitely unsettling, whatever Keith meant by them. 

"You mean, if the Galra had caught me instead of you?" he asked, uncertain. 

After a short moment of hesitation, Keith gave a small nod. 

Yup. Definitely unsettling. 

"Why?" Hunk couldn't help but ask. "What's so different between you and me?" 

Keith shook his head, shrinking down. His huge ears pressed flat against his head, eyes wide with something that almost looked like fear. 

Hunk didn't think he'd ever seen any Galra _afraid_. 

"Sorry," he hurried to say. "I didn't mean to pry, if this is a sore spot for you. I'm just trying to understand." 

He looked down at his crossed legs, feeling guilty. He was doing his best to help, but was he really accomplishing anything? Were they, as a team, of any help to Keith in this? What if they were just making things worse by locking him up like this? What if all their efforts to reconnect with Keith were just making it harder on him? What if they were going wrong about all of this? 

At first, right after they got Keith back, Hunk hadn't even been sure if it really was Keith. There were so many alternative explanations—a look-alike, a spy, some sort of body-snatcher or maybe mind control, or whatever else the Galra might have come up with to infiltrate their team, to have them destroyed from the inside out. 

By now, they were all convinced that this was Keith, so there was no use in worrying about scenarios like that any longer, but it also brought up a whole new set of problems. What if Keith would never recover enough to allow them to form Voltron again? What if Keith would never recover enough to even get out of that cell? Or what if something else went wrong somewhere, what if they made some kind of mistake and hurt Keith all over again? 

Everyone was putting in so much effort to try and help Keith. Shiro and Lance most of all. But how long would it take? How many setbacks would there be? Was there really any chance of getting through this in one piece, of having everyone alive and happy at the end of it all? What if they were running head-first into disaster and just not seeing it? 

It was a movement in front of him that startled Hunk out of his thoughts, his gaze snapping up. 

Keith was close to the forcefield now. Very hesitantly, he raised one hand to place it against Hunk's. There was a clicking sound as Keith's claws hit the barrier. 

Hunk immediately pressed his own hand harder against the field, eyes wide. 

"You're warm," Keith murmured, voice barely above a whisper, his words slow as if each one was carefully chosen. "Soft. Gentle. You wouldn't have become this." 

"Is that why I'd be dead?" Hunk asked, biting down on his lower lip. "Is that—how you see yourself? You're all of that, too, Keith." 

A bitter laugh spilled from Keith's mouth. Just a single sound, coming out so gutted that it made Hunk feel sick. 

"I'm Galra," Keith said, expression tight. He swallowed, closing his yellow eyes once before looking back at Hunk. "I'm glad you're not." 

"Glad I'm not Galra or glad I'm not dead?" Hunk asked, throat tight. 

Keith shook his head. At the movement, the light caught on the collar that still sat around his throat. It reminded Hunk that Keith wasn't Galra, either—or at least not one of _them_. 

Keith's claws clicked against the forcefield once more before he got up and moved back to his old spot. Hunk couldn't do anything but watch on helplessly as their small moment of closeness ended. 

Keith kept his eyes on Hunk as he curled up, and Hunk was pretty sure that he wouldn't get any more answers on this. 

Keith had said everything he was ready to say. 

"You do look Galra," Hunk murmured quietly, feeling the need to say something before leaving. "But you're not dead. We found you, we brought you back. And you _will_ come back to us. I know that." 

He _hoped_ so. He wanted that. He would do everything in his power to make it happen—and Lance was right, they needed to have some faith in Keith. In themselves. They could get through this. Keith should believe in that, and Hunk had to believe in it, too. They would _do_ this. 

He couldn't read Keith's expression, as hidden as it was behind the Galra's knees. But Keith's ears were angled at him instead of pressed back, and that felt like a good sign. 

 

***** 

 

Pidge showed up for lunch goo. Lance felt sort of tempted to offer her one of his precious face creams for the gigantic bags under her eyes. But she looked half dead and half ready to murder someone, so he swallowed down that generous offer. 

Not to mention how the tension in the room skyrocketed the moment she showed up. 

All of them waited quietly as Pidge filled her bowl with goo and flopped down n her chair, spork clenched in her hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She didn't start eating. None of them were eating. 

Pidge took in an audibly deep breath. Her eyes were faintly red, and Lance hoped that was from exhaustion and not from tears. 

"I don't know how to say this," she murmured, voice quiet and scratchy. She sounded as bad as Keith had in the beginning. "But the two prisoners whose data I was tracking, the ones I was hoping were Matt and my Dad—one of the trails ended." 

The room was so quiet, Lance swore he could even hear the space mice breathing. 

Pidge took a shuddering breath. "It could mean anything, really. Maybe the system lost track of him, or maybe he escaped, or maybe the data got corrupted. It could be a mistake in my program." 

"Pidge," Shiro tried to cut her off, but she glared at him with an expression made of stone, going on. 

"Maybe I'm wrong and it's not even one of them. But the most likely answer is that—one of them is dead." 

Lance faintly caught sight of Shiro pressing his lips together tightly, face going blank. Mostly, he was focused on Pidge's trembling shoulders and her too fast breathing. 

He wasn't quite sure who to go to first. He wasn't quite sure how to comfort them at all. He didn't know either of the two missing Holts. All he knew was that he didn't want his friends to feel miserable. And how devastated he himself would be if someone from his own family were to die. If his father or brother or anyone else were to be captured by the Galra, suffering for who knew how long before being killed, never to be free again. 

Allura moved first, placing a comforting hand on Shiro's shoulder, and Lance took that as his cue to step over to Pidge. He wrapped his arms around her, the movement mirrored by Hunk on her other side. 

Allura and Coran maneuvered Shiro from the room, giving the two paladins affected by this some room to themselves. 

Lance and Hunk just held on. 

"That's just the worst case scenario," Lance murmured quietly. "It doesn't have to be what happened." 

"Even if it is," Hunk went on, "there's still one of them who we can save. You found Keith. You can find your family. Don't give up now, Pidge." 

For the most part, Lance just hoped that they weren't making empty promises. He might not know the Holts, but he did care about Pidge. 

He didn't want her to have to suffer through losing her family. 

 

***** 

 

Lance didn't witness Shiro's reaction. The next time their leader showed up, he was tenser than usual, more subdued, but not showing any signs of grief. 

'No emotional reactions in front of your crew.' Ever the responsible leader. 

Lance wouldn't pretend that he wasn't worried. But he knew that Pidge and Shiro were strong, and both of them were mature enough to deal with their emotions in somewhat healthy ways. 

Clean-up of the training room was an awful lot of work that evening, especially after Shiro had spent a few hours in it. 

Lance was pretty sure that Pidge and Shiro would talk to each other about this, seeing as it affected the two of them the most. But whenever that happened, he didn't catch a word of it. 

All he knew was that by the time dinner rolled around, Pidge was back in her room working, and Shiro declared that she was following the other data trail, hoping that this one would yield better results. 

For their sake, Lance was hoping the same thing. 

 

***** 

 

 **{{{**

There had been more. Of course there had been more. 

Hunk. Pidge. Lance. Shiro again. Even Allura and Coran. 

They never lasted for more than an hour. Keith had learned his lesson and now assumed that whenever he saw one of his friends, they were nothing but an illusion. 

He wasn't sure how the Galra did it, but they seemed to be able to pick the thoughts right from his mind, as soon as he thought them. Memories stolen, whenever he reached out for them. 

It was difficult not to think of certain topics when they asked him. He was getting better at it. There wasn't really any other choice. He couldn't let them see everything he knew about his team. 

He had come up with a short list of other things to think about instead. 

Like whether it was Haggar or the creepy masked alien doing this to him. Shiro had mentioned Haggar using illusions on him before. The creepy masked alien hadn't used any in its fight against Keith. But maybe this was a different creepy masked alien. There were a lot of them, and Keith still couldn't tell them apart. Or maybe Haggar was teaching this one how to do it. 

Or maybe this was just Keith's mind giving out on him. 

But that wouldn't explain the awful headaches he was getting. That terrible digging sensation inside his skull. Was this _them_ , looking at the things Keith was thinking of? 

After a few more days, Keith stopped using that as a clue as to whether they were rifling through his memories at the moment or not, because his head just hurt all the time. The Galra torturing him, Rovik, seemed a bit disappointed that Keith was so hung up on a pain he hadn't inflicted himself. 

It was a bit amusing. 

He wondered if the creepy masked guy would tell him who was digging into his memory, if Keith were to ask. The masked one still came by regularly to electrocute Keith's body with its crackling black magic, and all other kinds of things. Had burned Keith's skin right off his arm once. Fourth trip to the healing pod. 

Keith wondered if he should ask Rovik who was creating these illusions. The Galra might tell him if his grudge against the other one causing Keith so much pain was big enough. Keith had always assumed that torturing someone would be a cooperative task, but it seemed to be rather competitive. 

Maybe the Galra were just competitive. They had to be, seeing as they'd been ruling the universe for ten thousand years. 

Maybe Rovik was just especially competitive? 

It was such an important thing to consider, especially when Hunk was in front of him, cradling a bleeding Pidge in his arms, asking him in a desperate voice if Keith knew how to provide first aid to humans, which organs were most important, most vulnerable. 

Keith just wasn't reacting at all anymore whenever something like that happened. It was getting easier to ignore now. Hunk's broken voice wasn't even as heart-wrenching as Lance bleeding out in front of Keith the day before, taking about an hour until he finally disappeared. 

It had reminded Keith too much of cradling Lance in his arms after their fight against Sendak, and the memory had surfaced in his mind. Now the Galra knew about the blue paladin's self-sacrificing tendencies as well. Keith could add that to the far too long and steadily growing list of his failures to keep his mind on track. 

It wouldn't happen again. He could think of other things and steadily push all the important memories of his team down. 

If he ignored them for long enough when they came, they would disappear. 

They always disappeared. 

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A'ight, time for my usual rambling! You know those authors who get hung up on single words? I took that to a whole new level by getting hung up on single letters. Because, for the record, it irks me to no end that apparently most alien species in Voltron are humanoid and just in general very human-like, so I decided that there needed to be more non-human stuff. Like sounds that humans can't pronounce—see the growly sound in ῾Riv. Took me forever to decide on a letter for a sound that doesn't technically exist in the English language. I wanted to go with a Greek ῾P (Rho), which is like an R with a breathy /h/ to it. But unfortunately the Rho looks like a P, and since I didn't want to make things overly confusing, I just put the little ῾ (indicating the breathy /h/) in front of a regular R. So now you know that story. Just keep the growly R in mind, since it will show up again sometimes :)
> 
> And more progress for Keith! Yay!
> 
> Also, I've been waiting to upload this scene from Hunk's POV basically forever, and I am so glad we're finally here. Poor Hunk doesn't talk about his feelings as much as some of the others do in this fic, but he's dealing with a lot of guilt since Keith got grabbed while on a mission with him. Both he and Keith got a bit of closure on that issue now, and writing that part was a lot of fun =)
> 
> As for the two missing Holts: I'm not going to say anything. I will cackle with delight if you voice any theories, but I'm silent on the issue. You'll get more info in later chapters and that's it. :x
> 
> On that note, the next chapter will be longer again. And there will finally be a bit more from Allura and Coran, who have dutifully remained in the background so far :') Having to consider so many characters at once is killing me. Group scenes are hell. Why am I doing this to myself.  
> Also there will be completely made up backstory about the previous paladins, courtesy of me, the girl who gets way to invested in headcanons about fictional aliens :') It is like, slightly relevant to the plot of this fic, I promise. In case that's not comforting for you, there will also be more progress for Keith. Like, every chapter now.  
> And since I finally have my semester break, I promise the next update won't take as long. No more two-month breaks :')


	10. All that I needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith shrugged. Very slowly, he raised his head, his lips curling up a little. As odd as it looked, it was undeniably a smile—or so Lance guessed. It looked a little pained, a lot unsure, and called attention to inhumanly sharp fangs. But it was still a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from '[Purple, Yellow, Red and Blue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nM61fXNfQSs)' by Portugal The Man. I am especially proud of the fact that Allura, Hunk, Keith and Lance are important in this chapter, corresponding to the title of the song ;)
> 
> This chapter has been edited by the wonderful [whoopsitsmeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whoopsitsmeme/pseuds/whoopsitsmeme) who has put in an effort to keep me from writing too much about my old paladin OCs. And who took care of allt eh other mistakes, of course.
> 
> Shout out to everyone who commented and left kudos. I am LIVING. I love all of you. People trying to figure out what I have planned makes me incredibly proud and happy ;u;

Despite all the pressure of having to save the universe and stuff, sometimes good things happened on the Castle ship, making life a little bit brighter. 

Hunk had apparently had a small emotional breakthrough with Keith, and now Keith could not only stand it when they pushed their whole arm through the hatch, but also didn't move to the furthest corner of the cell anymore. Instead, he'd mostly stay in his usual spot, and give the intruding limb the occasional wary glance. 

Lance would take it. 

"Hey, Keith," he began one afternoon, sprawled out on his back with his arm inside the cell. "Have you given all the things I asked about some thought? Like us actually coming into the cell?" 

Keith hissed at him. 

Lance rolled his eyes. "Okay, how about Pidge or Hunk taking another look at that collar?" 

Another hiss. 

"Mhm, I see. What about Allura or Coran coming to visit you?" 

Silence. 

That was new. Lance curiously leaned his head back so he could get a better look at Keith. "Dude, is that a _yes_? You better not get my hopes up just to hiss at Allura and Coran when they show up and then be all upset again." 

More silence. At his awkward angle, Lance couldn't quite tell if Keith was chewing on his lip or not. 

"Allura," Keith murmured after a few moments. 

" _Dude_ ," Lance cheered, a wide grin on his face even as he painfully bumped his arm against the space glass trying to get up too fast. "That's great! Look at you _go_ , Keith." 

Keith scrunched up his nose. It was an expression Lance couldn't read for the life of him, but it looked pretty funny. 

"You want me to get her right away or do you want some more time to like. Mentally prepare yourself?" Lance asked, practically bouncing with excitement. 

This had been one of Keith's Big Unexplained No's, right from the start. After getting Keith to talk and him using their names, this was their next big step. Lance could _feel_ it. 

Keith shrugged. 

Lance jumped to his feet. "I'll get her. Wait right here—uh, sorry. Be right back." 

* 

Lance had to admit that he felt pretty nervous when he walked down the hallway to the cell, Allura right behind him. Allura didn't look half as nervous. Then again, she was likely just hiding it. Some sort of royal demeanor to uphold, or maybe she was hoping that it would make things easier on Keith. 

She had looked pretty surprised when Lance had told her that Keith was ready to meet, something unreadable in her eyes that Lance couldn't be bothered to worry about at the moment. 

With Pidge's recent findings hanging over their heads, they all needed something positive to happen. Lance had told Keith about the possibility that one of the Holts might be dead, too. Keith had failed to react in any way. 

With Allura staying back for now, Lance stepped in front of the cell. He really hoped this would go over well. It couldn't really get worse, right? Worst case scenario was Keith hissing at them once he saw Allura, the way he had done the few times they'd tried this before. That wouldn't be great, of course, but still not too much of a setback. 

Keith gave him a curious look when he came into sight, shoulders drawn up more than usual. He looked tense. 

Lance coughed nervously. "So, I—Allura's here. You ready?" 

A moment passed before Keith nodded. His ears were angled backwards, cautious, but not pressed flat down. Lance hoped that was a good sign. 

Very slowly, Allura stepped in front of the cell. Her face was schooled into a carefully neutral expression, not giving away anything but a polite smile that didn't look quite real. 

Lance swallowed. He really hoped they wouldn't fuck this up. Keith hadn't yet hissed at her like all the times before, so that was good. 

"Keith," Allura spoke up, her voice devoid of all emotion. Lance couldn't help but feel like it sounded cold, and Keith tensed up even more. "Lance says you agreed to see me." 

Keith shrank down, his face mostly hidden behind his knees. His eyes were wide, and if Lance had to guess, he'd say the Galra looked afraid. That was not what he had expected. 

Then again, these days Keith rarely reacted the way they expected him to. 

"I don't know why you didn't want to see me or Coran before," Allura went on after Keith had been quiet for a while. "But whatever your reason was, it's good that things have changed." She paused for a moment, her smile becoming more genuine, but also sadder. "I'm—glad. All of us have missed you." 

Keith stayed quiet. Lance was pretty sure that he caught Keith glancing over at Allura once. He wondered what was wrong. Sure, Keith wasn't hissing and growling like an angry cat, but he still didn't look okay. And Allura wasn't exactly as warm and welcoming as Lance had expected, either. 

"Is it alright for you that I am here now? I can leave again, but I'd like to stay," Allura offered. 

Keith's silence continued, and Allura sent an unsure glance towards Lance. He shrugged helplessly. He had no idea what went on in that guy's head. 

"He can express himself pretty clearly when he doesn't want something. I think he wouldn't mind if you stayed. He's just—quiet a lot. You get used to it," Lance explained. He knew how difficult it was to try to have a conversation with Keith when one just wouldn't receive a reply from him. Maybe that was what was throwing Allura off and had her so reserved? 

With a hesitant nod, Allura sank down to the floor. She tried for another smile that came out looking strained. 

Keith didn't move. 

"Give him some time. I'm sure he'll warm up to you again, princess," Lance tried to cheer her up after seeing how her smile fell. "It took me weeks to get him to talk to me. Maybe you can get there faster. We could make it a bet." 

The strained smile on Allura's lips softened a little. "I appreciate your effort, but I have no intention of hurrying this up." 

Lance snorted. "Fine, then don't. To be honest, I'm kind of surprised you haven't chased him through training and into his Lion to form Voltron yet." 

Allura rolled her eyes. "As much as I'd like to, I know the connection that is necessary for Voltron can't be formed with Keith in his current state. We need to give him time—all of us, really. Besides, you have been doing fine without Voltron so far." 

"After your training regimen, you could send me to wrestle a gator and I'd probably win," Lance chuckled, noting out of the corner of his eye how Keith's ears had perked up to listen to them. Bingo. 

"What's a 'gator'?" Allura asked, curious. 

"It's like," Lance tapped his fingers together, imitating a jaw biting down, "this huge reptile from Earth. Maw full of really sharp teeth. Very dangerous." 

"You mean like a Vizorian?" 

Lance shrugged. "Uh. Maybe?" He chuckled helplessly, and Allura joined in, her eyes sparkling. 

"There should be pictures somewhere. We can compare," she offered, and Lance accepted with an eager nod. Maybe some of Coran's odd anecdotes would make more sense once he had a more thorough knowledge about alien species. 

They sat together in comfortable silence for a while. When Allura turned towards Keith again, she did so slowly and deliberately, broadcasting the move early enough that Keith had time to curl back into his defensive position before she looked at him. 

She gave Keith a very long look. Only now Lance realized that Allura was probably not yet used to Keith's Galra looks at all. She had seen him only two or three times since getting him back. Lance wondered if that was odd to her. After all, the Galra had destroyed her entire planet—but Keith hadn't. 

Allura took a deep breath. "Keith, you know that—" She broke off, pursing her lips unhappily. She sighed, shook her head, then tried again, her voice firmer this time. "Keith, I hope you know that you are not in this cell because of how you look now." 

Keith's ears twitched nervously. Lance wondered if Allura had noticed. Being Allura, she probably had. 

"Your looks don't determine who you are, and they don't determine what you do," Allura went on. "Had it not been for your odd behavior in the beginning, we would have never put you in a cell. Because you are not our enemy. You're our friend, Keith." 

Allura ended with a tentative smile. Lance would have applauded her small speech, but Keith didn't look as convinced. He was still curled up tightly, refusing to look up at them. 

Allura sighed, fiddling with the hem of her dress. It was probably the first nervous tick Lance had ever seen from her. 

"I don't think we've ever told you, but," Allura began once more, hesitantly, biting her lips and pausing for a moment. "You should probably know that there have been Galra paladins before." 

Keith actually made the effort to look up and glare at Allura for a moment, added by a little growl, before curling up again. 

"I'm not sure if Zarkon is the comforting reminder we need right now," Lance threw in, wincing slightly. 

Allura shook her head, a sad look in her eyes. "I'm not just talking about Zarkon. There was another one. The red paladin before you—Sha῾ra. She was Galra as well." 

Lance could have sworn that he saw Keith flinch at the name. He wondered if Keith had heard it before or just disliked the growling sound in the middle of it. 

"You never mentioned that," Lance muttered. "But—there's a lot we don't know, right? I mean. We never talked about it, but I think know we all know by now that Zarkon was the black paladin once. And obviously that was a horrible choice, but. Sure seems like Galra and paladins haven't always been at war." 

"They weren't," Allura agreed with a wistful smile. "I don't think it ever came up before, but—the Galra aren't really like most other species out there. They weren't born or evolved like so many do. They were chosen warriors—only the strongest and most determined. Centuries—Thousands of years ago, before my birth, there was a powerful enemy to be fought. Thus, the most brilliant minds came together and developed weapons for their defense. Voltron was created, a fusion of magic, quintessence, and technology. The Galra were similar. A special ritual, built on magic and the use of quintessence, was used to turn the most skilled warriors into even better fighters. It amplified their abilities, turned their skin purple and gave their eyes their yellow glow. Them being chosen from many different species is the reason why the Galra have so many different forms to this very day." 

"So like. Anyone could become Galra?" Lance asked, curiosity piqued. That actually explained a lot. Not only why the Galra looked so different among themselves, but also how Keith could look Galra now. No, not only looked—by that logic, Keith _was_ Galra. As much as all the others were. 

He cautiously glanced over to his friend. Keith was still curled up just as tightly as before, apparently not a fan of Allura's stories. 

"Yes," Allura answered. "They could have children, if they so chose, but during my times most of them still became Galra through the ritual. I don't know how things are these days, though. I am sure that a lot has changed under Zarkon over the last ten thousand years." 

"Yeah, makes sense," Lance murmured. He really had to tell the others about this later. He doubted they knew any of this, and it was so—unexpected. 

Sure, assuming that an entire species would be evil was silly, but like this—it made sense, but it also made things more unsettling. Did Zarkon only turn people who supported him into Galra? What happened if any Galra opposed him? Why had they turned Keith? 

"What about that paladin you mentioned? Sha῾ra?" Lance asked curiously, trying and failing to imitate the small growl in the name. Keith didn't flinch this time. 

Allura gave him a smile before turning back to Keith and going on. "Both Zarkon and Sha῾ra weren't born Galra, but Sha῾ra chose the ritual much sooner than Zarkon did. She was a fierce paladin, always first in a fight and last to go down. After the paladins lost a battle and only barely escaped with their lives, Sha῾ra decided to become Galra so she'd be able to protect her team." 

"That sounds pretty heroic," Lance pointed out, and Allura nodded. 

"She was," she agreed, a wistful smile on her lips. Lance silently wondered if Allura had known this paladin closer instead of just hearing about her in stories. 

A short glance over at Keith had him smiling a little. Though still curled up, Keith was definitely looking at Allura now, his ears perked up in interest. 

Allura had evidently noticed, too, giving Keith a warm smile. "Things obviously didn't end well for her, given what happened with Zarkon, but I felt that you should know about her. There have been Galra paladins before, and there is no reason why there shouldn't be one again. None of us will judge you for this change." 

Keith growled at her. Lance was pretty sure that their resident Galra would have no problem pronouncing the growling sound in Sha῾ra's name correctly. 

"I apologize, I didn't mean to make it sound like you were responsible for any of this," Allura hurried to say, one of her hands coming up to rest against the space glass. "What I am trying to say is—I'm very sorry your choice in this was taken from you. That should have never happened. But we don't fight the Galra because they're Galra, or because of how they look. I know that you only know the Galra as your enemies. I know that they have done terrible things to you, to all of us. I know that you didn't choose this. But you can move forward. You are still the same person as before. And what kind of person that is lies in no one's hands but your own." 

She took a deep breath once she was done talking. Lance might have been gaping at her. As much as he'd tried to convey to Keith that they didn't mind his new purple look, he didn't think he'd ever put it into words the way Allura just had. 

It was hard to tell if Keith felt the same, since he was still unhelpfully curled up. But his yellow eyes were considering, not hostile or scared, and Lance took that as a good sign. 

Allura gracefully rose back to her feet, sending Keith another smile. "Thank you for letting me visit. It has been good to see you again. I'll leave you for now, but if you don't mind—I'd like to come by more often in the future." 

Keith went still, as the seconds ticked by slowly. Allura, it seemed, was willing to wait him out. 

Eventually, Keith gave a small nod. 

"I'm looking forward to it. Fare well, Keith," Allura said, smiling softly. As she walked away, Keith's ears changed angles to follow her steps until she was gone. 

"Dude," Lance spoke up, keeping his voice quiet. Keith's gaze immediately snapped over to him. Lance gave him a wide smile. "I'm really glad you did this." 

Keith's nose scrunched up. Lance wasn't quite sure what kind of emotion that was, but it looked oddly cute. Even on a Galra's face. 

"No, really, I am," he insisted. "It sucks that you don't get to be the First Good Galra now, though. There go all our plans. Bummer, huh?" 

Keith snorted, rolling his eyes. Or at least, Lance had the distinct impression that Keith was rolling his eyes. 

He laughed loudly. 

Despite Keith not saying anything to Allura, Lance was pretty sure that listening to her had helped. It certainly had helped Lance. 

It was good to know that Keith wasn't fundamentally changed, only molded by his experiences. And now, he was slowly coming back to them. 

 

***** 

 

It quickly became obvious just how happy Allura was that she had talked to Keith. There was a small smile on her face for the rest of the day, the training wasn't quite as excruciating as usual, and she kept her cheerfulness even when she told the others about the original Galra and Sha῾ra, just as she had told Lance and Keith. 

Coran, on the other hand, was not happy. Lance wasn't sure if the others had noticed, but he certainly had. 

After dinner, when they were mopping unused hallways as usual—a fairly useless job, but who was Lance to complain; besides, spending time with Coran was always nice—Coran would always tell stories. About Altea, about other planets and aliens, about Coran's experiences and journeys before everything had gone to shit because of Zarkon. 

The previous paladins themselves had never come up, and Lance had never pushed the issue. Given that Zarkon had been their leader and how things had ended, it was obvious that their story didn't have a happy ending. Allura had looked sad just mentioning them, and the same was likely the case for Coran. So Lance never asked, even though his curiosity was eating him alive, especially after Allura's stories today. 

If there had been Galra paladins before, shouldn't that have come up earlier? If this Sha῾ra was so great and important, why had they never heard of her? In fact, they barely knew anything about the previous generation of paladins. Not even who the other three had been, besides Zarkon and Sha῾ra. And painful memories or not, wasn't that vital information? Shouldn't it have come up at some point? 

Lance felt very tempted to ask Coran about it this evening. 

But this evening of all evenings, Coran wasn't telling any stories _at all_. The Altean was quietly mopping away, for the first time since Lance had met him. 

Hence his conclusion: Coran wasn't happy. Some might say that, while he was mopping, he was moping. 

Lance wasn't sure why, but all this silence while cleaning gave him a lot of time to mull over the possible reasons for Coran's sudden quiet. 

Coran had seemed fine at lunch. So his change of mood was, in all likelihood, connected to Allura visiting Keith. 

Maybe Coran felt slighted that Keith had asked to talk to Allura instead of him? Or maybe he was just feeling especially wistful now that the previous paladins had been brought up? Or maybe there was something else that Lance wasn't seeing at the moment. 

He wondered if it would be impolite to just straight up ask. Then again, he had never really cared about rules like that—the only reason he was holding back at all was that he didn't want to accidentally make things worse. 

"Hey, Coran," he broke the silence after another moment of consideration. The Altean stopped mopping, looking over at him in question. "You seem—kind of down today. Is something wrong?" 

"It's nothing to worry about," Coran brushed him off, though he didn't sound upset that Lance had mentioned his silence. Lance took that as his cue to push a little more. 

"Is this about Allura talking to Keith today?" he asked, not missing the way Coran stiffened at the question. 

With a slight frown on his face, Coran sighed. "The princess is very optimistic," he muttered after a short pause. "You all are." 

"And you're not?" Lance guessed. 

Coran nodded, a grave expression on his face. "I—I was the king's advisor, as you know. It was my job to point out potential risks, to heed him to be cautious. King Alfor didn't always listen to me, and sometimes, it was the right choice. But when it came to his fellow paladins—the man could be blind. I'm worried something like that might happen again." 

"Are you saying you—don't trust Keith?" Lance asked, hesitantly making that connection. Had Coran always been suspicious of Keith? How had Lance not noticed? There wasn't even any reason to distrust Keith! "But Keith isn't—wait a moment, are you saying Allura's dad was a paladin, too?" 

Coran sighed once more, deeper than before. "If I tell you about the previous paladins, will you drop the issue? I don't expect you to listen to me on this. It's why I never said anything." 

Lance sputtered. What kind of offer was that? 

Could he really just—ignore that Coran obviously didn't trust Keith? For whatever reason? 

Sure, he wanted to know more about the previous paladins, especially now that it seemed like Allura's father had been one of them, too, but—that deal just seemed like a bad idea, somehow. Like a 'the little mermaid giving up her voice for a pair of legs'-bad kind of deal. 

Not that he suspected Coran to be on the same level as an evil sea witch. Of course not. Coran clearly cared about all of them, and seemed to be well aware that his suspicions were unfounded, thus not mentioning them before. 

Lance grumbled, conflicted. 

He trusted Coran. Coran was their friend. He was kind and caring and funny and experienced and wise. Coran wouldn't cause any of them harm. Surely, agreeing to this offer wouldn't have any horrendous consequences the way it always happened in fairy tales. Right? 

"Fine," he agreed. "I'll drop it. I really want to know more about the paladins before us." 

"Thank you, Lance," Coran hummed, smiling for the first time in hours. "I suppose I should begin with King Alfor. He was the yellow paladin before Hunk. He was actually very accomplished long before being chosen by his Lion—" 

Coran trailed off into several different stories about Alfor then, but Lance listened eagerly. He listened for hours. Coran knew a lot of stories about the previous paladins and seemed eager to share them. 

In addition to Sha῾ra, Alfor and Zarkon, there was Pidge's predecessor, Atishe. They had come from a people of brilliant engineers and builders. Apparently, the tech people they had visited for Pidge to create her code had been Atishe's creation. A people of brilliant androids built by them, that had evolved steadily over the past ten thousand years. 

"And who was the blue paladin before me?" Lance asked eagerly, despite the fact that the lights had dimmed to signal the night cycle of the ship hours ago. Somehow, despite telling so many stories, Coran had managed to stick to Alfor and Atishe, barely mentioning the others. 

"Well, before you," Coran murmured, looking oddly hesitant, "that was Allura." 

Lance choked on his own spit. One vicious coughing fit later, he sputtered out "Allura? But—you guys never said anything!" 

"She wasn't the blue paladin for long," Coran explained. "The paladins before you had been together for many, many decades, centuries even. Allura became the blue Lion's paladin after the previous paladin—died. But by then it was only a few weeks before things fell apart and Voltron couldn't be formed any longer." 

"I see..." Lance muttered. It was obvious that Coran didn't want to talk about that part of the story. That wasn't a problem, as there were much more interesting questions anyway. "Then who was the blue paladin before her?" 

"That was Y'orr," Coran told him, a wistful smile on his face. 

"And what was, uh—Why-orr like?" Lance asked, trying to imitate the way Coran's voice had gone higher in the middle of the name. That certainly wasn't easy. 

Coran chuckled. "Y'orr was one of a kind. The heart of Voltron. When the team first came together, they were barely able to hold a conversation, much less form Voltron. But Y'orr wormed xyr way into all their hearts, and got them to work together. Without xem, the team might have never gotten anything done." 

"Is—Is that my job, too?" Lance asked hesitantly. He couldn't remember ever doing something like that himself. If anything, he annoyed people and made them feel _less_ inclined to work together. 

"That is what the blue paladin does," Coran agreed, and Lance shrunk down a little. "The blue paladins hold the team together. They believe in their fellow paladins, no matter what happens." 

Coran broke off, and only now that Lance glanced over did he notice how sad the Altean looked. Exhausted and weary, drawn by loss. 

He wondered what had happened to Y'orr. How xe had died. 

But now didn't seem like the time to ask. Coran looked sad enough already—and Lance had initially started talking to cheer him up. 

"Well, guess I'll have to try my best then," he muttered, yawning loudly and stretching up his arms. "But for now, I'll just get some sleep. Thanks for telling me all those stories, Coran." 

"It was my pleasure," Coran muttered, though not really looking the part. 

Lance winced. He muttered a "Good night" and hurried off to bed. 

But despite the late hour, he couldn't fall asleep right away. There were too many questions buzzing through his head. 

 

***** 

 

"Well, on the bright side," Hunk said as he and Lance sat in front of Keith's cell two days later, "Keith hasn't missed a single meal ever since I'm the only person responsible for bringing him his goo." 

"That's good," Lance hummed with a smile. 

Things had been good in general lately. Keith had been steadily talking more, gotten angry less often and then there was the fact that he'd talked to Allura, of course. Even though things were still very different from before the Galra had taken Keith, it finally felt like they were getting somewhere. 

Riding that high wave of success, Lance felt pretty confident about having his arm in Keith's cell today. But Hunk, it seemed, had other plans, as he stopped Lance before he could reach inside. 

"What is it?" Lance asked, hesitantly pulling his hand back from the hatch. He saw how Keith tensed up as Hunk walked over to the panel at the wall next to the cell. 

"I want to show you something," Hunk announced, looking proud and nervous at the same time. 

"Didn't we agree that going into the cell was a bad idea for now?" It took some effort for Lance to keep calm and not jump up to pull Hunk away from the panel. 

"I'm not talking about going in," Hunk explained, and Lance relaxed a little. "But Shiro had the idea to work on that in, you know, small steps. So he and I—and Keith of course—have been practicing that first step. Unlocking the cell, without actually sliding the door open. That door-shaped opening in the forcefield. You know what I mean." 

"And that works?" Lance couldn't help but frown slightly. He wanted to be optimistic about this, sure, but their past attempts at opening the cell hadn't exactly gone well. At all. 

But Hunk nodded, smiling a little wider. "Yeah, it does. We've been at it for a while, and yesterday and this morning Keith stayed really calm through the entire thing. So I wanted to tell you." 

"That's great!" Lance agreed excitedly. "But—why didn't you tell me about this sooner? And, uh," Lance confirmed his worries with a quick glance over at their resident Galra, "Keith doesn't exactly look relaxed now. More like one wrong move away from trying to murder us again." 

"Lance," Hunk began, looking more serious and a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, fidgeting. "Haven't you—noticed?" 

"Noticed what?" 

"Keith is, uh—" Hunk sighed, fiddling with his fingers nervously and looking down. "He's kind of—more wary when you're around? Like. I've noticed that when you're not down here with me, he relaxes more quickly when I have my hand in the cell. And he was fine with me unlocking the cell, too, when you weren't here. So I've asked Shiro, and he says the same thing. That Keith is more relaxed around him than he seems to be around you." 

"But—why would he be?" Lance asked. Was what Hunk was saying true? Hunk wouldn't lie to him. 

But what reason could Keith possibly have to be so tense around _him_ of all people? Had Lance done something wrong? He'd thought that things were fine between them. Keith had been talking more. Had Lance read the situation wrong? 

"I'm sure it's nothing you did," Hunk assured him quickly. "And it's not a huge difference or anything, just a little—he's kinda weird about you, dude." 

"Believe it or not, but that is not comforting at all," Lance whined, slumping over. He turned towards Keith with a pitiful expression. "Keith? Keith, did I do something wrong? You know you can tell me if I did, right? I thought things were fine between us." 

Keith's ears went flat against his head as he looked at Lance from behind his knees. He looked even tenser than before. 

Was this what Hunk had meant? Was Lance pushing too much with his questions? Was that why Keith was uncomfortable? Or maybe Keith just didn't want to talk about this? 

Lance wanted to know. He wanted to know so badly. But Keith didn't look like he was going to answer any questions any time soon. 

"I'm sorry, Lance," Hunk muttered. "I shouldn't have brought that up like this." 

"It's fine." With a deep sigh, Lance shuffled away from the cell. "I thought things were getting better, but maybe I was only seeing what I wanted to see. Better I realize that now than later." 

"Things _are_ getting better," Hunk assured him quickly, looking like he very much regretted bringing up the issue. 

Lance hummed noncommittally. "Sure." 

"Lance," Hunk sighed sadly. Wringing his hands, he glanced over at Keith. After a short moment of thinking, he perked up. "Hey, Keith. Would you be okay with—you know, now?" He gestured towards the panel. 

Lance could honestly admit that he was amazed at the thought of what Hunk was implying. Sure, unlocking the cell wasn't the same as opening it or going inside, but it was still close. And none of them were in a particularly good mood right now. 

After a long moment, Keith gave a small nod. He still looked tense and put off, though, and Lance was kind of worried how this might end. 

But this was Keith, he reminded himself. Keith was slowly coming back to himself, and would never actually try to hurt them. 

With a determined nod, Hunk placed his hand on the scanning panel. It glowed for a moment, then—nothing else happened. 

It was sort of underwhelming. 

None of them were moving, except for the way Keith's ears were twitching nervously. Lance knew, rationally, that now it was possible to slide open the space glass and go into the cell, just as it was possible for Keith to get up, slide it open and come out. 

But as mentioned before, none of them were moving, so all that space glass sliding was completely theoretical and nothing actually looked changed. 

"Okay, so I know this is great and all, very amazing," Lance muttered, "but the Alteans seriously should have built in like, sound effects, because _this_ does not live up to my expectations." 

"Dude," Hunk complained, trying to look upset but failing to hide his amusement. "This is _huge_." 

"I know that, I know," Lance assured him, shuffling to his feet as elegantly as possible. After sitting down for so long, it was not very elegant. One of his legs had fallen asleep. But slouching onto the floor didn't feel right, now that the cell was unlocked. "But from a visual point of view, you know, a point of _view_ , it's not as impressive as dragging Allura down here." 

Hunk stuck out his tongue at him. "You're only jealous because Shiro and I can do it and you've never tried." 

"Because you didn't _tell_ me," Lance whined immediately, grasping at his chest dramatically. "Because you think Keith is behaving differently around me. Which, rude, by the way. He sure didn't look tense when he agreed to see Allura two days ago." 

"I can't say anything about that, I wasn't here," Hunk chuckled. "Although—Keith really improved a lot recently, didn't he? First there was that whole month of nothing at all, and now he's doing something new like, every day. Like some sort of all-or-nothing recovery. Isn't that kind of weird?" 

"I don't know." Lance shrugged. "It _is_ Keith." 

Hunk sighed. "I guess you're right..." 

"I always am," Lance hummed, nodding sagely and barely suppressing a grin. 

Hunk rolled his eyes in fond amusement. Then he looked over at Keith. "You doing okay there, buddy?" 

Keith had uncurled a little over the course of their conversation, and by now he looked a lot less defensive, ears angled towards them and face no longer hidden behind his knees. Lance would have said he looked amicable, if not for the way Keith's brows were pulled together into a frown. 

"No offense there, Keith, but you don't look happy," Lance pointed out. 

Hunk gave him a glare. "We can lock the cell again, if that would make you feel better?" he offered. 

Keith frowned even more, pursing his lips. Just as Hunk turned around to place his hand on the pad, Keith began chewing on his lower lip, and Lance hurriedly called out, "Wait!" 

Hunk gave him a confused look, but waited. 

And waited. And waited some more. 

Lance sort of regretted getting to his feet earlier. They hurt. 

"Y—You," Keith choked out what felt like an eternity later. Both Hunk and Lance snapped to attention immediately. Keith took a deep breath, his whole face scrunching up. It looked like speaking was costing him a lot this time. Keith bit down on his lower lip again, and Lance was pretty sure he saw some blood there before Keith went on. "You can come inside." 

There was silence. 

Keith sucked in a sharp breath. 

Lance might have forgotten how to breathe altogether. He wasn't quite sure. He didn't particularly care at this moment. 

"Keith," Hunk got out eventually, taking a step forward. "Are you—Are you sure?" 

"Yes," Keith snarled right away, sounding unexpectedly upset. Lance could see clearly how much effort it took Keith to smooth his purple face back out into something more neutral afterwards. 

"Okay then," Lance muttered, a bit unsure. Keith suddenly dropping that offer on them was—certainly unexpected. "So, uh. Any preferences who goes i—" 

"Hunk," Keith pressed out before Lance could even finish his question. 

Lance audibly snapped his mouth shut. Well, that was definitely a clear answer. Seemed like Hunk had been right about Keith's supposed issues with him. 

"Uh," Hunk stuttered out, fidgeting nervously. "Are you—Are you really sure about this, Keith? You don't have to push yourself." 

Keith glared at Hunk before slowly softening his look. "You—don't have to come in," he muttered then, sounding a little upset. 

Hunk sighed. "Sorry. It's not that I don't trust you or anything, I promise. It's just that—Shiro said he can't always control himself when something sets him off. So maybe that's the same for you? And Lance mentioned that you have an issue with us wearing our armor, so I can't come in wearing that. So that is just sort of a really unfortunate combination?" 

"Dude, stop whining. If Keith offered, then I'm sure he's confident he won't attack you," Lance muttered. He swallowed down the 'if you don't go in, I'll do it' that he wanted to tack on. Keith had made it sufficiently clear that he wanted Hunk to enter the cell, definitely not Lance. 

On the other hand, Lance knew that Hunk was a lot more cautious than him, and a lot of people would probably be hesitant about entering a Galra's cell without any safety gear. But it was _Keith_. 

As Hunk continued to fidget uncomfortably, Keith got up and moved to the corner furthest from them, sitting back down there, as he had done when they had first started putting their hands through the hatch. 

A gesture instead of words, to show Hunk his good intentions. How unexpectedly thoughtful of Keith. 

Eventually, Hunk sighed. "Fine," he muttered. "Fine, fine, let's do this." He turned to Lance, giving him a serious look. "If I die, I want you to know that I'll be haunting your ass." 

Lance chuckled, patting Hunk's shoulder for support. "If you die, I'll let you. But I'm pretty hopeful that you won't." 

Hunk shrugged, still not looking entirely convinced. Then he took a step forward, placing his hand against the space glass. He gave Keith one more look before sliding it aside, a door-sized opening appearing where he'd moved it. 

Lance held his breath. 

None of them dared to move. 

The seconds were steadily ticking by, and something bad had yet to happen. 

"Wow," Hunk muttered eventually, staring at Keith with wide eyes. Keith was staring right back at him, looking just as tense. "I'm—pretty impressed this worked." 

Keith's face twitched before going back to tight and wary. Lance had no idea what Keith was feeling right now. It was only a little unsettling. 

"So," Hunk coughed nervously, "mind if I—come in?" 

Keith stared at him in silence for a few moments, before giving a short, jerky nod. 

Hunk hesitated, obviously confused. Did Keith mean that it was fine for Hunk to come in, or that he _did_ mind and Hunk should stay outside? 

Frowning at Hunk's apparent trepidation, Keith pursed his lips. His mouth opened and closed a few times, until he muttered, "Okay." 

Lance could hardly believe his own ears. Where did all this come from? Just two days ago, Keith had hissed at him for the mere suggestion of someone entering the cell. And now it was fine all of a sudden? Why? 

"O—Okay," Hunk squeaked out, looking just as surprised as Lance felt. With very small, cautious steps, he slowly shuffled forward. 

Past the space glass. 

Into the cell. 

Keith visibly tensed up and Hunk looked close to fainting. But still, it happened. There Hunk was, right inside the cell, and keeping a very respectful distance from where Keith was sitting, curled up. 

But he was inside the cell. 

Lance was barely able to hold himself back from cheering out loud, not wanting to disturb the admittedly fragile peace. 

None of them dared to say anything. 

Time ticked by slowly, complete silence settling over them. The sounds of their breathing and the faint humming of the engines were the only noise. 

Both Hunk and Keith were relaxing slowly, but none of them moved or said anything. Lance could only guess that the two of them, much like himself, were feeling as if this new step was still too brittle to try anything more. As if one wrong move, one wrong word, would tear down everything they had achieved so far. 

For all they knew, it might. 

Lance couldn't tell how much later it was when Hunk eventually shuffled back out of the cell, slid it closed and locked it, but it felt as if hours had passed. 

They all let out a breath of relief once the cell was locked again, Keith included. 

Then, Hunk's face split into a wide grin. He stepped forward, placing both hands against the space glass. "Keith! I can't believe it. That was amazing!" 

"Slow down a little, you barely even _did_ anything," Lance teased, receiving a glare from his friend. 

"It was _groundbreaking_ ," Hunk stated firmly, patting the space glass in his excitement and shifting his attention back to Keith. "You let me in! Like, physically. And you even suggested it! I'm—I'm so proud of you." Hunk's voice cracked over the last few words as he broke out into tears. 

Keith's eyes went wide at that, before he ducked down and hid behind his knees, shifting nervously. He looked a little uncomfortable, and Lance wondered if it was because of all the praise Hunk was suddenly bestowing upon him. 

"It was pretty great, I have to admit," Lance hummed, swallowing down the bitter feeling that had crawled up inside of him, whispering that Keith had quite insistently chosen Hunk instead of him to enter the cell. 

That didn't matter now. Keith had let one of them in, and that was what counted. 

Keith shrugged. Very slowly, he raised his head, his lips curling up a little. As odd as it looked, it was undeniably a smile—or so Lance guessed. It looked a little pained, a lot unsure, and called attention to inhumanly sharp fangs. But it was still a smile. 

Lance whooped out loud, and Hunk cried even more. 

It seemed that Keith wasn't making small steps towards progress anymore. 

He was sprinting. 

 

***** 

 

Lance was sure that on that evening, their success would have placed as the most interesting news of the day—had it not been for Pidge barging into the room, announcing loudly that now she knew where the remaining data trail led. 

Whether it was her father or her brother—hopefully one of them at all—, she knew where the Galra were holding him right now. 

And they would go and get him. 

 

***** 

 

 **{{{**

When Hunk walked into his cell for the second time in a row, Keith wondered if the Galra even _wanted_ him to fall for it anymore. 

Maybe they wanted him to be miserable. Seeing the faces of his friends, himself being rescued, everything he wanted, only to have to crush his hopes himself, as to not give anything away. 

He couldn't let the Galra find out more. He couldn't endanger his friends like that. 

He just had to accept that whenever he saw them, they weren't really there. 

No matter what those illusions did. 

They were never real. 

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaay, Allura and Coran finally showed up! :D :D :D  
> Truth be told, those two scenes were written out months ago, way before season 2 aired, and then I despaired because Allura's and Coran's reactions to Galra Keith were so different in the series. My original plan was for fic!Allura to be really cool with Keith, because she worked with Galra before back when she was a paladin. But then canon!Allura was so upset about it and I had to rewrite things a little because keeping her all friendly felt weird.  
> Also I really hope that it's clear that Coran is not a bad guy. I'm trying the whole unreliable narrator thing, and while Lance is really unhappy about Coran's opinion, what Coran is saying and warning for is actually a 100% reasonable. If I was in that kind of situation, I would probably be on Coran's side of things.
> 
> I really hope that reading about my OCs wasn't too annoying. I often dislike reading about other people's OCs, but I love creating my own. Sha῾ra, Y'orr and Atishe all have elaborate backstories and cultures, which I am going to spare you from. I limited things (mostly) to what's relevant for the fic, and I hope you can bear with me :')
> 
> So, Hunk thinks that Keith is kind of weird about Lance. I wonder what that could be about...? Hah hah...
> 
> But yeah, things are really picking up speed right now. I finally got through the Big Dramatic Reveal Scene™ and had to reorganize the chapters completely, but now we are getting there. Chapter 15 will hold Answers. We will get there. I promise.  
> The next update (I want to promise it won't take more than a month, but I'm a Big Fat Liar and it might take me longer than that, sorry) is going to feature more information crumbs and also a process starting with two m's ;)


	11. Where my demons hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Keiiiiiith," Lance whined, slumping against the space glass like a glob of depressed jelly. "Let me iiiiiin. Keith. Buddyyyy." 
> 
> "If I say yes, will you stop asking?" someone huffed, sounding completely exasperated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from '[Demons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFQYaoiIFh8)' by Imagine Dragons, and in my opinion it fits the mood really well (especially if you sing along loudly and off-key like I do). Honestly, there were so many possible lines in this song that I considered using as title, I had a hard time deciding.
> 
> The beta reading of this chapter was done by the lovely [whoopsitsmeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whoopsitsmeme/pseuds/whoopsitsmeme), who has as always done a wonderful job.
> 
> As usual, sorry for bringing you this update later than announced (I might have fallen into a pit playing Overwatch and Pathfinder), but thank you so much for all the kudos and kind comments! ;u; Whenever writing gets tough, I read over everything and it really motivates me to try my hardest to make this fic the best it can be!

Six hours after dinner was a time when Lance usually expected himself to be sleeping. Or roaming the Castle ship or talking to Hunk, at least. Not storming a Galra base. 

Needless to say, storming a Galra base was what they were doing at the moment. 

When Pidge had burst in to announce that she knew where the prisoner—hopefully her father or brother—was, Lance had not expected them to get to the 'attacking an enemy base to get the prisoners out' part quite as quickly. 

Pidge had relayed all her information, jumped into a healing pod for the time it took them to get there to make up for her lack of sleep, and then they had all suited up and gotten ready. 

It was, as Lance had mentioned before, all happening unexpectedly fast, and now here he was, dodging enemy fire. 

Shiro was right behind him, giving him cover as they drew the troops towards them and effectively away from where the prisoners were held. Or had been held, to be more precise, as Pidge and Hunk were getting them out and bringing them to the escape pods by now. 

Hunk gave them updates from time to time. Unfortunately, so far neither Pidge's father or brother had been among them, and they were running out of prisoners to free. 

Pidge had barely said anything, and Lance didn't even want to imagine what she had to be feeling at the moment. 

On the bright side, soldier drones shooting at him was a very effective distraction from that depressing topic. Lance dodged two shots, then caught a few with his shield so that they wouldn't hit Shiro. 

Drawing the enemy forces to them was working maybe a little too well, as they were steadily getting pushed back. The current plan was to make a run for it to their Lions, hidden away and shielded on the lower decks, as soon as Hunk and Pidge were done evacuating. 

Which had to be any minute now. Before he and Shiro got overrun, hopefully. 

"Lance!" Shiro called out, and Lance barely reacted in time to dodge the blast coming from behind him, belatedly realizing that Shiro was swarmed by too many drones at once to cover him anymore. 

The shot grazed his side, but most of it was held off by his suit, the actual blast singing his waist only a little. It stung, but it wasn't serious. 

Lance fired a salve of shots, then whirled around to take down a few of the drones attacking Shiro, before turning back to the wall of metallic bodies in front of him. It seemed as if for every drone he shot down, two new ones popped up. He just hoped they wouldn't get cornered anywhere, because getting out of that would be nearly impossible. 

"Last cell, guys," Hunk's voice crackled out of his helmet, and Lance gave an internal sigh of relief. 

He dodged an attack, then blasted down another three drones before Hunk spoke again. 

"We got the prisoners out, heading to the escape pods now. Give us another minute or two and we should be clear." 

Lance didn't want to ask, but Shiro did it for him. "The Holts?" 

Lance dodged, blasted. Grit his teeth and blasted again. 

"They're not here," Hunk said, voice dejected. 

Shiro barely faltered before cutting through two drones with a single strike of his arm. "Tell us once you're clear." 

Two minutes later, Hunk did. 

Shiro cut a way free for them, Lance narrowly dodged a Galra's sword to the gut, then they were all back in their Lions and quickly laid waste to the Galra base. 

They all got out of it without any injuries that would have warranted a healing pod. Those were only taken up by the prisoners who had safely arrived at the Castle. All of the aliens would be fine, except for the Galra, of course. 

Lance would have liked to call the mission a success, but it didn't feel like one. 

 

***** 

 

"So, the aliens we rescued should all wake up over the course of the next few days, and everyone is fine. Except for Pidge, but she's asleep for now, thankfully, so that's a problem for later," Lance ended his retelling of the story to Keith. "And I'm tired. Not sure if attacking the Galra in the middle of the night was our best idea. I mean, it was _our_ night cycle, but probably not theirs, so isn't it a huge disadvantage if we're half asleep and they're not?" 

Keith kept quiet on this very important question Lance had raised. Lance took some small comfort in the fact that Keith looked tired, too. But these days Keith always looked like he hadn't gotten enough sleep, so maybe the dark circles beneath the Galra's eyes couldn't be attributed to their nightly battles. 

"Allura says that the ship can't just generate an unlimited amount of travelling pods for everyone, so the plan is that we wait for all the prisoners to wake up before we drop them off somewhere. And until then, the ones who are awake get to roam the Castle. We'll tell them not to go down here, but in case they do it anyway, I am hereby officially warning you that that might happen," Lance went on, taking in how Keith tensed up at his words. "But don't worry, we're pretty sure they won't actually come down here." 

Keith didn't look very reassured. But Lance didn't know what else he could do. 

He ran a hand through his hair, giving Keith a cautious look. "And, uh. There was something else I wanted to ask you, but I'm not really sure how. Just please don't take this the wrong way. So. You let Hunk come into your cell yesterday, and I was wondering if, uh—maybe I could try?" Lance pulled his lips up into a tense smile. 

Keith's ears had gone flat against his head as soon as Lance had mentioned the idea, and that was definitely not a good sign. With his shoulders drawn up high and eyes wide, Keith looked at Lance as if he had just suggested he cut Keith's hand off. 

Tense. Defensive. Scared, almost. 

"Don't," Keith pressed out, voice tight and scratchy. 

"Okay," Lance muttered. It wasn't easy to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but it was obvious that Keith didn't like the idea. And pushing the issue would not make it better. "I'll stay out here, then." 

Keith relaxed marginally. 

Lance tried for a shy smile in an attempt to smooth over how much he'd upset Keith with his question. 

But he didn't understand it. Why was it okay for Keith when Hunk entered the cell, but not when Lance asked? What was the difference there, for Keith? 

 

***** 

 

"Where's Pidge?" Lance asked as he walked onto the main deck. 

Allura had called in a team meeting, and she, Coran, Hunk, and Shiro were already there. Lance was usually the last one to show up, and as he was pretty sure that Pidge had woken up by now, she should have been present as well. 

"That's one of the reasons we're having a meeting," Shiro explained, glaring at Lance a little for strolling in as late as he had. 

Lance answered with an innocent smile and an expectant look. 

Shiro sighed, then began to explain. "The first two rescuees woke up, and they mentioned that recently, a few prisoners were shipped off to somewhere else. They took one look at Pidge and said that she had quite a similarity to one of them." 

"You mean—" Hunk choked out, eyes wide. 

Shiro nodded. "It seems that either Sam or Matt Holt was here, but we arrived a little too late. Pidge is working on finding them right now. As soon as she knows where to go, we'll head out again, so be ready." 

"That's great news!" Lance cheered, barely able to hold in his excitement for Pidge. Maybe there was hope after all. 

"It is," Shiro agreed, a soft smile on his lips. Then he straightened back up. "Unfortunately, there's something else. Hunk." 

Hunk shifted uncomfortably as the attention turned to him, twiddling with his fingers. Although Lance didn't know what it was about, he gave Hunk an encouraging smile. Hunk's expression fell, swallowed up by guilt. 

"I, uh, wasn't sure if I should tell you about this, but Shiro thought I should," Hunk mumbled, looking as if he wanted the floor to swallow him up right then and there. "When Pidge and I were still sneaking around, we overheard some of the higher-up Galra, and they—" Hunk took a deep breath. Swallowed. Looked down at his toes "—they were talking about how everything was going 'according to plan', regarding the red paladin." 

"You're saying—Keith being here might be part of their plans?" Allura asked, looking as shocked as Lance felt. 

"We might have underestimated just how much they influenced him—" Coran theorized, but didn't get far. 

"It can't be!" Lance protested immediately, barely able to hear himself over the beating of his own heart. Hunk shrank down even further. 

It just wasn't possible. Them rescuing Keith couldn't be part of the Galra's plans. Keith was getting better. Keith was one of them. Keith being here was a bad thing for the Galra! 

Unless, of course, Keith was working for Zarkon somehow. That would be the only possible conclusion. Keith being here and gaining their trust back was only useful to the Galra if they were expecting Keith to stab them in the back. 

But Keith _wouldn't_. 

He might have at the very beginning, when he hadn't even recognized them, had still thought that they were Haggar's illusions. But that wasn't the case anymore. This couldn't possibly be what Zarkon or Haggar or any of their enemies wanted. 

"Pidge said that maybe they knew we were there, and that they said it to make us distrust Keith," Hunk added on. "I'm not sure if she's right, but—it's definitely possible." 

"The important thing is that all of us know," Shiro stated firmly. "Whatever happens, we will be prepared." 

"But—you can't honestly consider that Keith would be—" _Working for them_. Lance didn't even dare to say it out loud. 

"Lance." Shiro's voice softened as he reached out, giving Lance's shoulder a squeeze. "You know that none of us want that to be true. Keith's progress has been—staggeringly fast lately, but none of his behavior since we got him back seemed faked to me. And if he wanted to harm us, he could have done so when Hunk entered his cell." 

"Yeah, I know," Lance muttered, relaxing a little. 

Shiro was right, of course. The Galra were probably just trying to sow distrust among them, and they couldn't let that work. 

Keith looked like a Galra, _was_ a Galra, but he would never work for Zarkon, against them. That was one thing that Lance would never doubt. 

 

***** 

 

Over the next two days, the rescued prisoners woke up one by one. They were all very thankful, and Lance was not ashamed of basking in their adoration and gratitude from time to time. 

Pidge was once again locked away in her room, relentlessly working to find her family. 

Shiro went into Keith's cell and later told them about it with a proud little smile. Hunk went into Keith's cell again, and actually had a talk with the Galra while he was inside. 

That almost made it seem as if Keith was okay with everyone but Lance coming in. Ha ha, _almost_. Good thing Lance was used to disappointment by now. 

Lance got to clean up hallways and rooms he had never set foot into before, listening to Coran's stories. He liked Coran, but he would have switched with Hunk or Shiro to get to sit in Keith's cell in an instant. 

One day one of the freed prisoners stormed onto the main deck in panic, almost tripping over one of their seven scaly legs in their haste, to demand answers as to why there was a Galra on the ship and not in cryo sleep. But instead awake, dangerous, able to escape and kill them all at any time! 

It took a while for Allura and Shiro to calm down the ensuing chaos. Lance was later informed not to tell any of the prisoners that said Galra was actually one of their paladins, but locked away since he had tried to attack them recently. Apparently, the universe was not quite ready for news like that yet. Things should settle down first, Keith find back to himself and be a calm, controlled person, before anyone could find out that one of the people who had been terrorizing them for the past ten thousand years was now supposed to protect them. 

Lance didn't really like hiding the fact that Keith was a paladin, just because he was Galra. Keith had tried to kill them a few times, yes, but—that was behind them now. Bygones. 

Allura shut him down on that quickly. Sure, there had been Galra paladins before and one of them had not built an Empire to take over the universe. But it seemed that for the past ten thousand years, the Galra had very exclusively worked under Zarkon, and thus were not exactly a popular species right now. 

Lance relented and headed down to Keith's cell. He wasn't sure what state he expected Keith to be in after the prisoner had seen him—and he never found out. The visible part of the cell was empty, because Keith was hiding out in his bathroom. Lance wanted to wait for Keith to come out, but after a few minutes Coran came by and asked for his assistance in cleaning the west wing of the Castle. 

 

***** 

 

When Lance came to Keith's cell the next day, Keith seemed normal enough. Curled up, looking at him, not saying a word, dark bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in a week. 

It seemed like the rescued prisoner stumbling upon the cell hadn't caused Keith any lasting distress. Lance didn't mention to anyone how worried he'd been about that, or how relieved he was now. He didn't even want to imagine what things might have been like if something like this had happened a few weeks earlier, when Keith hadn't even acknowledged their presence. 

"So, I heard you had a visitor yesterday," Lance tried for a joke, sitting down on the ground. 

Keith's eyes narrowed into angry yellow slits. 

"Hey, that really wasn't my fault," Lance defended himself. "And for once, that statement is a hundred per cent true." 

Keith's brows scrunched up, something unreadable in his eyes, ears flicking, before his face smoothed out into a more neutral look. What a weird expression. Lance wondered what kind of emotion that had been. Maybe 'annoyance at Lance's antics'. That was definitely an emotion Keith had. 

"Soooo," Lance drawled, fiddling with the hem of his jacket. He already knew Keith didn't like it when he asked if he could come into the cell. And technically he could just push his arm through the hatch as usual and leave it at that. But. "I heard you let Shiro come in, too." 

Well, now Keith's expression was _definitely_ one of 'annoyance at Lance's antics'. Maybe that was the reason Keith wouldn't let him in—he just wanted to annoy Lance right back. It was working. 

"Look, I'm just—" Lance threw up his hands in frustration. 

He actually didn't know what he was trying to accomplish here. Ask Keith again? Keith would just say no. Or, well, hiss at him, but that was basically the same thing. And Keith was obviously not in the mood for telling him why he was fine with Shiro and Hunk, but not with Lance. So there wasn't any point in asking. 

Lance sighed. "I just don't get what's so different about me, you know? Hunk and I did pretty much the same things for you! Sure, Hunk can play guitar, but he also gave you that blue food goo that you didn't like at all, so I really don't get why you're playing favorites here." 

Keith's answer was complete and utter silence. Lance sighed again. 

"You're an asshole," he grumbled sullenly. "What did I ever do to you? You forgot _me_ after you dropped out of the Garrison, not the other way around. I got you into space. I saved all of your asses when Sendak attacked the Castle. I may not be able to play guitar or sing as well as Hunk, but I'm the one who sang for you in the first place! I _sang_ for you, Keith! Now _that_ was a bonding moment! The least you could do is tell me why you won't let me in, really." 

More silence. 

"Keiiiiiith," Lance whined, slumping against the space glass like a glob of depressed jelly. "Let me iiiiiin. Keith. Buddyyyy." 

"If I say yes, will you stop asking?" someone huffed, sounding completely exasperated. 

It took Lance a moment to realize that the person talking had, in fact, been Keith. He reacted to that realization by promptly choking on his own spit. "Wh—What?" he sputtered in between coughing and trying not to suffocate. 

Keith didn't grace him with a reply. 

Once he could breathe properly again, Lance wasted no time asking the most prominent question. "Did you just completely change your mind? I— _why_?" 

"You're annoying," Keith answered flatly. As if that explained anything. 

"That is not an answer, Keith," Lance hissed, wringing his hands. "You can't just make a 180 on an issue like this and then explain it away with me being annoying—which I'm not, by the way! _You're_ annoying!" 

Keith gave him a dry look. 

Rubbing his fingers against his temples, Lance sighed once more. Keith was going to be the death of him. He couldn't possibly be serious about this? Definitely not. If Lance were a responsible person, he would not even consider going into the cell right now. 

Lance, however, was not a responsible person. 

"So... Are you serious? I can come in?" he asked, unsure what answer to expect. He couldn't believe that Keith would change his mind on such an important issue simply because he found Lance annoying. What kind of reasoning was that, even? "I mean, I can tone down the questions. That's an option. You don't have to say 'yes' just to get me to stop asking. I don't want to end up slashed to ribbons here." 

Keith looked at him, silent. Lance returned the gesture with the most aggressive silent stare possible. He could hardly believe it when Keith actually gave in. 

"You can come in," Keith muttered quietly. 

"Are you sure?" Lance couldn't help but ask again. 

Keith rolled his eyes, the motion so clear that Lance could see it despite the lack of pupils. " _Yes_ , Lance, I'm sure," the Galra huffed, clearly annoyed, only to freeze up a second later, eyes wide and ears drooping as if something was wrong. 

At that sudden shift in mood, Lance actually wanted to ask if Keith was sure _again_. He didn't. "I just want to be sure you're not pushing yourself too hard," he muttered instead, voice quiet and soft, hoping that maybe it would help Keith calm down from whatever bothered him. "It might be a cell, but it's still _your_ space and I don't want to intrude on that if you don't feel ready yet." 

Keith gave him a long look, then murmured, "That's Hunk." 

Lance was confused for a moment, then put together what Keith was getting at. "Okay, yes, I might have had a talk about this with Hunk, and he might have had some very sensible advice on the matter, but I still can't believe you think I wouldn't know that by myself!" 

Keith gave him a flat look. 

Lance huffed. "Okay, fine, you're right, I might have been a little impatient," he grumbled. 

A quiet snort came from Keith, and Lance was absolutely sure that it was an amused one. Keith might try to stifle it, for whatever reason, but he _knew_. 

"So, I can come in now?" he asked then, still not completely convinced that it was alright. He could, of course, just not go in and wait until later. But he didn't have _that_ much patience. 

On the other hand, he didn't want to overwhelm Keith and end up murdered. There wasn't really a whole lot he could do if Keith attacked him with those razor sharp claws, and he didn't want to freak Keith out by showing up in his armor, either. 

Keith didn't say anything, instead shuffling towards the back of the cell, away from the space glass. Lance supposed that was answer enough. 

There was a nervous tingling in his chest as he got up. He reached out for the control panel of the cell, hand hovering over it for a few seconds. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then placed his palm on the scanning pad. A bright light indicated the scan, then a small control light turned blue. Apparently Alteans used blue lights instead of green ones. He remembered Coran mentioning something like that once. 

Whatever the color, it meant the cell was unlocked now. 

Lance gave Keith an unsure smile. The Galra's shoulders were pulled up far. He looked as tense as Lance felt. But at least he didn't look angry or ready to attack—more like he wanted to hide away. 

Again, if Lance had been a responsible person, he would have turned away now. Unlocking the cell was already a step further than he had ever gotten. But Hunk and Shiro could go inside, and—Lance wanted that, too. He didn't want to be denied this when others could do it. 

With that new wave of resolve, he stepped forward and slid the space glass to the side, just wide enough to comfortably step through. 

He took a step forward. 

Then another, past the open doorway, into the cell. His heart was beating unexpectedly fast. But nothing had gone horribly wrong yet, so that was a plus. 

Another step. 

"Stay there," Keith muttered from where he was pressed to the wall. 

Lance nodded, and sat down where he was. Looked like there was still a barrier between them. That was kind of disappointing, of course, but to be expected. And this one was different from before—it relied on Keith trusting Lance not to step any closer. Sure, the consequences would be bad for Lance mostly, not for Keith. But still—it was definitely nice to be trusted this way. 

"This okay?" Lance asked, keeping his voice quiet. He realized a moment later that there wasn't really any reason to whisper, but—the moment felt too significant, somehow, too fragile for loud voices. 

Keith nodded hesitantly. 

Lance worried his lower lip between his teeth. He didn't really know what else to talk about now. Risking any of the more sensitive topics that might upset Keith would be pushing it. And mindless small talk didn't feel important enough. Maybe he should sing again? 

"Well, uh," Lance stuttered. "Nice weather today, huh." He winced at his own words. 

Keith didn't look impressed. 

"You know, no clouds or anything out here in space," Lance kept going, unable to make himself stop. He was digging his own grave here and he knew it. There was no weather in space. Keith hadn't seen a window in _months_. Lance couldn't even tell which one was worse. "But sunshine. Lots of sunshine. Because there are so many suns. Or well, stars. Starshine." Lance chuckled weakly. "You know, if you're going to lose your nerves and kill me, now would be a good time for that. Please put me out of my misery." 

Keith stared at him wide-eyed. Then he hunched over, face scrunched up and ears flicking in that weird way they had before. 

Lance still didn't know what kind of emotion that was. 'Annoyance at Lance's antics' seemed like a more and more reasonable guess, though. 

Well, at least things could only get less awkward from here on out. 

 

***** 

 

Four days after rescuing the Galra's prisoners, the last of them woke up from the healing pod. That meant a quick trip to the nearest peaceful planet with space travel options, which was, apparently, quite a distance away. 

"Do you think Pidge will be upset that we're going somewhere else? I mean, her family is probably in the general vicinity here, since the Galra wouldn't transport them that far away from where we freed the last batch of prisoners," Lance wondered out loud, slumped on the couch with Hunk. 

Hunk shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure if Pidge will even notice that we're moving. And besides, we'll come right back here once we've dropped them off." 

"True," Lance agreed. He thought things over for a moment, then perked up with a grin. "Once this is over and done with, Pidge will have to spend so much time with Keith. I mean, I already was in his cell. She'll never catch up to me." 

"Lance," Hunk sighed, half reprimanding and half resigned to his fate. "Keith's recovery is not a race." 

"I know that!" Lance protested immediately, feeling that he had to defend his honor. "I'm just saying that—if it _was_ a race, I would have caught up to you by now. I'm like, Keith's favorite paladin. We're Team Right Side of Voltron." 

"Whatever happened to Team Legs?" Hunk asked, chuckling slightly. 

"We're a team, too!" Lance insisted, gesturing to make his point. "It's like, different teams for everyone. Me and Pidge are Team—I don't know. Team Diagonal? Team 'Those limbs you move together when you walk'? Is there word for that?" 

Hunk poked his side. "And poor Shiro is all alone." 

"Well, I'm sorry the head is such an uncooperative limb," Lance huffed. "I'm not responsible for the way the human body works. Or the Altean body. Or Voltron's body. Man, there sure are a lot of humanoid bodies in space." 

"Shay's people. Galra. Actually, like, a lot. We should make a chart. Do you thing there's data on this stored somewhere in the Castle?" Hunk asked, quickly getting into the idea. 

"We can ask Coran or Allura," Lance suggested, grinning. It was nice to do fun things every once in a while, even if it was just indulging Hunk's nerdy science side. Pidge would have enjoyed that, too. 

But Pidge was hardly around anymore. Talking to Keith was still often one-sided and didn't lead anywhere. And Shiro was dealing better with the situation by now, but still far from okay with it. Allura and Coran seemed the most untouched by things, but that didn't mean they weren't affected. 

So, yes, doing fun things was nice. And who was to say that making a chart on different types of aliens wouldn't be helpful one day? 

 

***** 

 

Dropping off the prisoners went without a hitch. Lance wasn't sure what it said about his life that he was honestly surprised by that. And as if that hadn't been enough already, everything else went along perfectly well, too. 

Keith talked more and more often, though still mostly in short one-word sentences and rarely about what had happened to him while he'd been prisoner of the Galra. He let Allura visit again, and both Hunk and Lance were allowed to enter the cell once more. One afternoon, they almost suspected that something was up because no one could find Shiro anywhere, but then the space mice reported that he was sitting in Keith's cell, and that the two of them were having a pretty solid conversation. 

Sure, sightings of Pidge were so rare that Lance had already planned out several jokes about adding her to the cryptid wiki for when she returned, and Coran had mentioned his distrust of Keith and since then avoided the topic like the plague. Space plague. Whatever. But those were minor hiccups in an overall very positive situation. 

An almost _suspiciously_ positive situation. Of course Lance was happy that everything was going well. But Keith's progress was incredibly fast all of a sudden, and while Lance had been happy about that at first, by now he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was bound to go terribly wrong again at some point. 

Fate, however, didn't seem to agree with him on that. 

When he visited Keith the next day to get in his usual singing, Keith began shifting nervously as soon as Lance was done with his first song. The second song never came, as Lance very much wanted to give Keith the time to work his way up to—whatever it was that he wanted to do. 

It took a while but eventually, Keith swallowed and looked directly at Lance. "We should mind meld," he stated, voice a little scratchy but determined. 

Lance was pretty sure his jaw had just dropped open like a cartoon character's. 

He sputtered. "Wh—Are you _sure_?" 

Keith gave him his usual, slightly annoyed glare. 

Okay, fine, so maybe Keith wouldn't have suggested it if he wasn't sure about it. But Keith could also be a pretty impulsive asshole who rarely thought things through, so no one could blame Lance for asking a second time, right? He was being a responsible person here. He didn't deserve that glare. He deserved songs of praise. Keith was such an ingrate. 

Anyway, yes, mind melding. 

Lance jumped to his feet. "I'll get those headsets! And the others!" He sprinted a few steps forward, then backtracked and leaned back to ask, "It's okay if I get the others, right?" 

Keith shrugged noncommittally. Lance decided to take that as a yes. 

So Lance ran off and told absolutely everyone about this newest development. Except for Pidge, because Pidge was still working and a working Pidge, when interrupted, was a scary Pidge. He told the space mice, though. 

Allura declined his offer to come along. Apparently she felt like Keith was still too wary of her and that her presence might make things more difficult than they had to be. Coran just said that he was too busy. 

Hunk happily came along, though, and so did Shiro, despite looking a bit apprehensive about the whole thing. 

With his two fellow paladins and two headsets for mind melding in tow, Lance made his way back to the cell. He might have initially tried to take more than two headsets with him, but both Hunk and Shiro had argued that mind melding with one person might be more than enough for Keith right now, and seeing as that was a pretty reasonable argument, Lance had relented. 

"We'll have to be very careful, or this is going to blow up in our faces so bad," Hunk kept worrying out loud. "I mean, he said the Galra interrogated him on us, right? So if we go digging in his mind now, he might freak out. Scratch that, he will definitely freak out. Lance, are you sure he's okay with this at all?" 

"He was the one who suggested it!" Lance huffed, not liking the implication that he had been pushy again. Sure, he'd been pushy about plenty of other things, but not in this particular instance. Whatever might go wrong, it wouldn't be his fault. "More importantly, who of us is gonna mind meld with Keith first?" 

They both glanced over at Shiro. Shiro was definitely Keith's favorite, as much as it irked Lance at times. Just as it irked him that Shiro was the first one who came to mind for this. Since Keith had suggested mind melding to Lance, shouldn't he be the one to do it? 

But Shiro held up his hands defensively. "I'm willing to go along with this and keep an eye on things, but I won't mind meld with Keith. I'm still—I—" Shiro hesitated, looking uncomfortable. 

Lance nodded, as it was quite obvious what Shiro was hinting at. Melding the minds of two people who were both slightly traumatized by the Galra did not sound like a good idea. If anything went wrong, they might just drag each other down, and it wouldn't end well for either of them. There was no need to provoke disaster like that. 

"So I get to do it? Sweet," he cheered, pumping his fist. Met by tense silence, he deflated a few moments later. "What?" 

"Uh," Hunk shifted. "Are you sure? I'm not gonna stop you, man, but—remember what I said about Keith being a little weird about you? He took way longer to allow you inside the cell. Are you sure it's a good idea to be the first to barge into his mind now?" 

"He suggested it to _me_ , though," Lance grumbled sullenly. "Doesn't that count for anything?" 

"I'm not saying you shouldn't do it at all. Just not right away. You can be a bit—rash about things," Hunk said gently. 

Lance huffed. "I am daring and heroic, you mean. But I guess—" He trailed off. He had known Hunk for basically forever, and he was well aware that Hunk was by far the more cautious and careful one of them. "Fine, you can do it." 

Hunk gave him a proud smile, even as Lance pursed his lips, slightly miffed about the whole thing. 

Whatever. At least this way, it wouldn't be his fault if something went horribly wrong. 

They rounded the last corner and Lance proudly waved the headsets around once he could see Keith. The Galra promptly tensed up, but at least he didn't look angry. 

Hunk settled down on the ground in front of the space glass, Lance right next to him, while Shiro leant against the far wall, keeping a watchful eye on everything. Lance off-handedly wondered how well the black paladin was dealing with Keith's Galra looks by now. Was it still giving him trouble? Maybe that was another reason why Shiro didn't want to meld minds with Keith. But it was doubtful that Shiro would ever outright say anything like that. 

"So, Keith," Hunk began, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Lance says you want to mind meld? Would it be okay with you if we try that now?" 

Frowning slightly, Keith pursed his lips. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, with both Hunk and Shiro looking taken aback and very hesitant. Then Keith gave a small nod. 

"Okay then," Hunk muttered. "I guess we're doing this." 

With an encouraging smile, Lance pushed one of the headsets through the hatch into the cell, as Hunk put on the second one next to him. 

Time passed without any of them moving. Probably not a lot. But Lance was sort of nervous about how this might go, so it felt like a lot. 

Eventually, Shiro cleared his throat. "Are you sure you want to do this now, Keith?" he asked. 

"Maybe he just doesn't know how to put on the headset. Won't his ears get in the way?" Lance wondered out loud, shrugging off the glares that Hunk and Shiro immediately sent his way. "What? It's a reasonable explanation." 

As if that was all he had been waiting for, Keith reached out and picked up the headset, eyeing it critically. When he moved to put it on, true to Lance's prediction, it actually did get stuck on Keith's ears. Lance snorted out a laugh, mostly at Keith's hilariously disgruntled expression. 

"Uhm," Hunk muttered, caught somewhere between amusement and worry. "Maybe you can angle it differently? Or maybe there's a different set of headsets somewhere. Shouldn't the Castle be prepared for different kinds of aliens? With ears?" 

"They should be," Shiro agreed, pushing away from the wall but stopping short when a glow from Keith's cell captured all of their attention. 

The headset, now glowing, slowly shifted its shape. The stabilizing bars that had previously been stuck melted away and reformed higher up, adjusting to Keith's bat-like ears. During the shift, the headset sunk down until it fit over Keith's head snugly. Then the glow stopped. 

"Huh, so that's how they adjust to different alien species. Neat," Hunk hummed, mostly to himself. 

"Get on with it already," Lance huffed impatiently, waving his hands. All this waiting was slowly driving him out of his mind. He didn't want to wait any longer until Keith and Hunk put in that little bit of focus needed to make the headsets work, and find out what was going on. It was bad enough already that he'd have to rely on what Hunk told them, since without being part of the mind link themselves, he and Shiro wouldn't be able to see what was going on. Which sucked. 

"Don't try to hurry this, Lance," Shiro chided him, looking a little tense beneath his stern, leader-ish demeanor. Lance stuck out his tongue at him. 

Ignoring their shenanigans, Hunk closed his eyes and focused. Lance knew the second when Hunk's and Keith's minds connected—it was hard to miss, with the way Keith's eyes snapped wide open and he went completely stiff. That was a little worrisome. 

"Lance," Hunk said quietly, brows furrowed, "are you sure these headsets aren't broken?" 

"What's wrong?" Shiro was already stepping forward, worry clear on his face. 

"I'm not sure," Hunk muttered, his face scrunching up in concentration. "I can feel Keith. Like, it's definitely him. But it's only his presence, and not anything else. Just—white noise." 

"Maybe he's just keeping you out?" Lance suggested, leaning towards his friend. "I mean, he was pretty clear about the Galra trying to squeeze information out of him, so he's probably not too fond of opening up his mind now." He shifted when both Shiro and Hunk looked at him in surprise. "What? I can be sensitive, too! Assholes." 

And these people called themselves his friends. He wasn't completely irresponsible! Just a bit impatient at times. 

But before he could really get started on a speech to remind them of how great he was and how lucky they were to have him around, Hunk shushed him. 

"Wait a second, wait—I think he's—opening up. Or something." 

"You sure?" Lance asked quietly. Keith sure didn't look any more opened up on the outside. The Galra sat still as a statue, eyes wide and scarily empty. 

Hunk's response was to jab him in the side, and Lance shut up. He even stopped himself from asking Hunk what was going on, despite the way his nerves were fraying as more and more time passed by. 

After a few minutes, Keith suddenly slumped over. Lance jumped forward in alarm immediately, Shiro doing the same behind him, but Hunk stayed oddly relaxed, a strange sort of amazement shining in his eyes. 

Keith turned towards them, expression screwed up into something Lance couldn't decipher beyond pained, and maybe relieved. "It's really you," the Galra whispered with a hoarse voice, sounding almost reverent. The tips of his ears were shaking. 

A wave of emotion rolled over Lance, his chest going tight under the pressure. It took him a moment to choke everything down and put a smile on his face. "Yeah, buddy. It's us," he agreed, feeling Shiro stepping up behind him. 

"It's good to have you back, Keith," Shiro murmured, voice soft. 

A very small, very hesitant smile made it onto Keith's face. "It's good to be back," he muttered. His legs slowly dropped to rest against the floor, no longer hiding Keith's body from view. It was fascinating to watch for Lance. Sure, he'd seen Keith's body when the other was getting up, but even that he rarely got to witness—mostly when the Galra was overcome by anger and trying to claw his way out of the cell. This was a very different situation. 

Neither Lance nor Shiro knew what else to say, but Keith didn't seem to mind. Most of his attention seemed focused on Hunk, anyway. There was a lot of silent eye contact happening there. Lance was just about ready to pester Hunk with questions of what was going on in the mind link again. Keeping him and Shiro out of the loop like this really wasn't fair. 

Hunk, being the great friend that he was, seemed to sense that and finally provided some information. "So, uh, this link isn't nearly as clear as the one via the Lions. And until just now, Keith wouldn't really let me look into his mind and just looked through mine, but now I'm—in. And for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure he remembers us." 

" _'Pretty sure'_?" Shiro asked, and Hunk shrugged helplessly. 

"I'd love to be clearer on that, dude, believe me, but. Uh. Not sure how to say this politely, but Keith's mind isn't exactly the way it was before. And he barely lets me look around. There's definitely memories there of the time before the Galra took him, and he seems to know who we are and all that, but it's all a little different from what I know from—all of you, really. It's more—" Hunk made a wavy motion with his hands, "—fleeting, y'know? Like, it's there, but the next moment it's—not completely gone, but. Hidden. Blocked. Out of reach." 

If the tight set of Shiro's jaw was anything to go by, their leader was not too happy about this newest revelation. Lance could relate, because neither was he. 

He'd known that Keith distrusted them, but he had thought that that was only because Haggar had shown Keith illusions of them. Or at least Lance had liked to think that. He hadn't really considered that the Galra might have damaged Keith's psyche in even more ways. Ways bad enough that even now, two months later, Keith's mind was still this messed up. 

He really wanted to punch that Haggar witch in the face right about now. 

Instead, he swallowed down his churning anger and looked over at Hunk. "Do you think we can fix it?" he asked, dreading the answer. 

To his utter surprise, it wasn't Hunk who replied. 

"I already fixed it," Keith hissed sharply, yellow eyes narrowed in anger. Lance's head snapped over to the Galra immediately. Man, Keith looked pissed off. That was unexpected. Under their collective attention, Keith looked down at his knees, shifting uncomfortably. But just as Lance grew concerned, he looked back up, anger shining in his eyes. "Don't try to _fix_ me. I'm handling it. It used to be worse." 

"I'm sure Lance didn't mean any offense by that," Shiro smoothed things over as well as he could, and Lance couldn't help but glare at their leader for it. He could apologize his damn self, thanks very much. "We all know you're doing the best you can, Keith." 

It took a few moments for Keith's ire to abate, but then his glare lessened and he shrugged. As he didn't say anything else, they all took it as an 'apology accepted'. 

"Mind if I—look around some more?" Hunk asked hesitantly, receiving a small nod. 

Lance sat by in silence as the minutes dragged by, having learned his lesson. Yes, it was boring. But he trusted Hunk to tell them right away if he stumbled upon anything important in Keith's mind. 

Then Hunk suddenly flinched violently, stifling some sort of sound. Lance immediately rushed forward, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, only to realize a second later that there wasn't anything he could do to help, whatever had just happened. 

"Hunk?" he asked, voice wobbling with worry, the question echoed by Shiro. 

A few nerve-wracking seconds passed by. 

Then Hunk took a deep, shuddering breath, panting all of a sudden, one hand wrapping around Lance's wrist. "Shit," Hunk choked out. Lance wasn't sure when he'd last heard Hunk swear. Hunk didn't swear. 

Hunk looked up at him, chest heaving, and Lance all but plastered himself to his friend's side, not sure what else he could do in this situation. 

"Hunk, what happened?" Shiro asked from behind them, clearly just as unsettled as Lance himself felt. Probably not as unsettled as Hunk, though. What about Keith? 

Lance dared a short glance over into the cell. Keith was back to his wide-eyed, stone-faced stillness from the beginning of the mind melding session. His face was void of all emotion, but where Lance had been relieved before that there wasn't any anger, he now only felt concern. That lack of emotion couldn't mean anything good. 

"I," Hunk got out, and Lance's attention switched back to him instantly. He was pretty sure he could feel Hunk shaking against him. "I bumped into some sort of memory from—when he was their prisoner." He closed his eyes, shook his head. "It wasn't good." 

Lance really wanted to ask what had happened, but then swallowed it down. Shiro looked just as torn about asking. 

"There was this—this really scary alien with a mask. Nothing behind the mask though," Hunk began speaking anyway. "And it just. There were these flashes, like lightning but black, and it _hurt_ —It hurt so much." 

"The druids. The ones working under Haggar," Shiro muttered, and out of the corner of his eye, Lance saw Keith shudder. 

"They wanted him to tell them. About us," Hunk murmured quietly, voice cracking. "It felt like I was there. It's—it's never been so intense before, to look at someone else's memory." 

"It's more intense to remember. Those things. It feels real. Like it's happening right now," Shiro croaked, voice rough. 

Lance sucked in a sharp breath, but made sure to do it quietly. 

So Shiro's memories of being a prisoner were like that, too? So intense that it felt like he was experiencing it all over again? Lance wasn't sure if he could even imagine feeling like that. He wasn't sure if he wanted to imagine it. It sounded terrifying. 

Hunk nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's what it felt like." 

Time passed by between them without anyone saying anything. 

"I think I've had enough of mind melding for today," Hunk muttered, a small attempt at a joke. With trembling fingers, he pried off the headset and put it down on the floor. 

Lance snorted out a laugh. It was too loud and sharp against the eerie quiet, but he kept at it. Made sure to sound especially joyful when he answered. "Yeah, I really think that's enough for now. Wouldn't want you to get hurt. Seeing as we're pal-adins and all that." 

Hunk stared at him quietly, expression unmoved. 

"You better laugh, or I will repeat that pun until you do. Don't think I'm joking," Lance threatened, jabbing a finger into Hunk's side, right where he knew his friend was ticklish. 

Hunk failed at stifling his giggles, and set to the task of wrestling Lance away from his weak spots. But years of being friends had armed Lance with a lot of knowledge, and Hunk had weak spots _everywhere_. 

"Guys," Shiro interrupted their wrestling match before it could really get started. "I really think we should give Keith a break for now. You can do that up on the training deck." 

"What?" Lance whined, making sure to put on a pout before he turned to look at Shiro. "But I wanted to mind meld with Keith, too!" 

"You can do that tomorrow," Shiro shut him down without any mercy. 

Lance sagged to the floor in defeat. "You're a truly heartless leader." 

He could see how Shiro was hiding a chuckle, even as he poked the tip of his boot against Lance's legs. "I definitely am. So get moving, cadet." 

"You're not the boss of me," Lance hissed, staying right where he was, sprawled out on the ground. "Hunk and I are staging a coup." 

"Dude, what?" Hunk asked. "Don't pull me into this. I'm not part of your rebellion." 

"Fine, then I'll ask Pidge. She already doesn't listen to Shiro anyway," Lance huffed, crossing his arms. 

"Fine by me," Hunk muttered, getting to his feet. With a bit of pride and a lot of relief, Lance noted how Hunk wasn't shaking or looking like he'd just seen a ghost anymore. Or Keith's ghost. "C'mon, Lance." Hunk held out his hand and pulled Lance to his feet. 

"Let's go. We can discuss the terms of your surrender somewhere else," Shiro tried to usher them forward. 

Lance was already sputtering and trying to come up with a witty reply—The rebellion would never surrender! Wasn't that the whole point of what they were trying to achieve with Voltron here?—but they were all stopped short. 

"Wait," Keith murmured, his quiet voice somehow managing to ring out louder in the hallway than Lance's and Hunk's playful banter had. Needless to say, they all stayed right where they were and glanced at Keith expectantly. 

Keith, who was still wearing the mind melding headset. Keith, who was chewing on his lower lip again, looking terribly conflicted. 

Keith, whose ears were flicking nervously, but there was determination in his voice when he spoke. 

"You—I'm still up for mind melding if you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the odyssey for Pidge's family continues! :'D But at least, Lance finally got to go into Keith's cell, so there are, like. Things happening.
> 
> About the ending: This is not some lame cliffhanger where something is hinted at and then doesn't actually happen. Lance gets to mind meld with Keith next chapter, I promise. It's just that this chapter got waaaay to long and I had to cut it off somewhere :')
> 
> Said chapter should be out in a few weeks, depending on when I get my term paper done :') Hopefully not longer than a month, but so far that has always been a lie, so :''') What I can promise you, however, is that chapter 12 will have Lance and Keith mind melding and also a more happy, hopeful mood in general!  
> In case you want to ask me things about this fic or hear my newest excuses for why the update is later than promised, you can always contact me on my [Tumblr](http://onyx-stars.tumblr.com/)! I love literally every single ask I get =)


	12. Don't tell me how it feels, I'll find it on my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He really hoped Keith hadn't noticed his staring. Keith might take it the wrong way, after all, and assume that Lance took issue with his Galra looks. Which Lance did not. Really, really not. No issues here. 
> 
> Except for the one where Keith had been sort of pretty before, and was still pretty now, and Lance found himself still staring at his pretty purple lips, and he wasn't so deep in self-denial that he didn't know what this meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from '[So Alive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78wGInBuKn0)' by Goo Goo Dolls. It's kind of sad but also very hopeful, so it really fits this chapter, which is by far the most positive in mood so far =)
> 
> It took me forever to upload this time, sorry about that. Things have been very busy for me as well as my wonderful beta reader, [whoopsitsmeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whoopsitsmeme/pseuds/whoopsitsmeme). But we finally did it! :'D Just for the record, I checked over the italics about 30 times. They should be exactly where they're supposed to now.
> 
> A thousand thanks, as always, to everyone who commented and left kudos and just keeps reading in general =) It really means the world to me. Before you start reading, I'd like to give out a quick heads-up that there's some very **graphic violence** at the beginning of this chapter, so if you're sensitive to that, please tread carefully. On the other hand, there is now finally the long-expected Hurt/Comfort tag!

"You—I'm still up for mind melding if you are." 

The air was thick with tension after Keith made his offer, his yellow eyes focused on Lance. 

"Uh", was Lance's very intelligent reply. He swallowed down the first question that came to mind— _Are you sure?_ —and instead fumbled around nervously until he could think of something better to say. There wasn't anything better to say, though. "Are you sure? Things _did_ just go a little sideways with Hunk. I don't want to push you into this if you're not ready yet." 

"I'm ready," Keith stated with a whole lot more certainty than Lance was feeling at the moment. 

Was this really a good idea? Of course Lance wanted to mind meld with Keith, see what was going on for himself, reconnect. But—wasn't this too much too fast? Keith had literally just had a flashback that, by the looks of Hunk, was incredibly unpleasant. Was he really willing to try again, right away, right now? With someone who was—admittedly—not nearly as careful and a lot more daring and impatient than Hunk? And Keith already looked exhausted and strained, as if the first session with Hunk had taken up all his energy. But now he wanted to try again? 

It was usually Hunk's position to think like this, but wasn't this just asking for disaster to happen? Asking for something to go terribly wrong? Needlessly risking all the progress they had made so far, when there wasn't even anything to gain? 

Was Lance the only one who thought that Keith was really pushing it? 

"Keith," he tried, voice soft. "You know I really want to do this, right? But only if you're up to it. We have time. We can do this tomorrow, just like Shiro suggested. It doesn't have to happen right now." 

Keith's ears flicked with something that Lance was pretty sure was annoyance. "I'm ready now," he huffed, yellow eyes still holding Lance's gaze. 

Lance sighed. If Keith was so sure, could he really say 'no' to this? Maybe they weren't seeing things from the right perspective. Maybe Keith actually needed this to recover. Maybe melding minds with them helped him in some way, even if it was hard for him to do. It sure as hell would make it clear that they weren't illusions, that they really cared about Keith and wanted him back. 

Maybe that was what Keith needed right now. 

"Fine," Lance relented, sighing again. Giving himself a short mental pep talk, he stood up straighter. This could work. This could be good. "Let's do it then." 

"Lance," Shiro tried to stop him, obviously not happy about his decision, but Lance shook his head. 

"No," he declared decisively. "We all decided to do this on Keith's terms. We would have backed off if he'd asked us to. Now he's asking us to try again, and I don't think that's any less important. If he wants to go again, I'm up for it." 

Shiro stared at him for a long moment, then sighed, his left hand coming up to rub at his temple. "Be careful," he instructed, and Lance brightened up. 

"Of course I'll be careful. I'm _the_ most careful person on the team!" he reassured Shiro, then quickly snatched the headset from where Hunk had left it on the ground, and settled down on the floor. "You ready to go, mullet-head?" he asked with his widest, most challenging smirk. 

Keith nodded. 

Lance breathed in. Put on the headset. Closed his eyes. 

There was no reason to worry. This was what Keith wanted. What he needed from them right now. 

There was no reason to back out now. 

Lance breathed out and focused on opening his mind. 

He got what Hunk had been talking about right away. There was another presence brushing up against his mind. Undeniably Keith's, but—different. Like a puzzle that had been taken apart and put back together the wrong way, pieces not fitting each other but pushed together with such force that now they were stuck like this anyway. 

It felt a little scary. 

Lance gulped and soldiered on. 

He couldn't really get a look at Keith's thoughts or feelings, the way he usually could when he mind melded with someone. He had no doubts that they were there, but Keith definitely did a great job of keeping everything away from Lance. 

Lance peeked over into the cell and saw Keith sitting there with the same stone-faced, empty look as before. Was he focusing on keeping his mind empty? 

Lance took that as his cue to back off. He pulled back, no longer trying to look into Keith's mind, and simply kept his own open. 

He waited. 

It took a while until he actually felt Keith poking around. Lance wasn't sure why he'd expected otherwise, but Keith was so—careful about it. Gently brushing along Lance's memories. Barely glancing into them, and backing off as soon as it wasn't something they had experienced together. 

Lance wasn't sure if he should be touched that Keith was so careful about being in his mind, or worried. Keith had never been this tentative, this reluctant, this cautious. Not the Keith he remembered. 

He really hoped Keith wouldn't pick up on those worried feelings. To cover them up, he did his best to focus on his newest beauty routine and shove that Keith's way. 

He could hear Keith physically snort from his cell. 

A twinkle of amusement came through the link, then moments later a wave of relief. 

Lance looked up to see a small smile on Keith's lips. "It's you," Keith murmured softly. 

"The one and only," Lance declared with a wide grin, feeling a burst of pride despite knowing that he hadn't really done anything. Just, knowing that Keith was this glad to see him was—nice. 

It was very nice. 

He reached out for Keith's mind once more, trying to be as gentle and careful about it as Keith had been in his own. 

For a few long moments, Keith shut down once more, both mind and expression empty. But then he slowly relaxed. 

Lance was allowed to step inside the mismatched puzzle and then—he wasn't sure what he was seeing. Feeling. Whatever. 

Years of being an incredibly romantic gentleman and wooing people with words of love had taught him the high art of metaphors. Which was, possibly, the only thing that could come even close to expressing the experience of melding minds with someone. 

For example, Lance very clearly remembered an episode of SpongeBob, and the way the character's brain had been organized like an office, neatly labeled boxes and folders and papers holding all memories. His own mind had never felt quite that organized, but it had still seemed like a fitting enough illustration. 

Keith's mind might have been an office, before, just one that was run more by emotion, impulse and rash decisions, rather than by tiny SpongeBob office clerks. 

Now, Keith's mind was definitely no office. 

Everything was all over the place. Memories were flickering on and off like lights in the darkness, and when they were off they were—not completely gone, but not there, either. Inaccessible, just like Hunk had said. And just like with faulty lightbulbs, it seemed that Keith couldn't fully control when they were on. At times, they just flickered away. Like the one Lance had wanted to look at, that had most definitely been them on the Balmera at some point. One moment, it was there, then the next it was gone, and he couldn't find it anymore. 

The next memory lit up bright, like Keith was focusing on it just to make sure that Lance would see it. And Lance gladly did. There was a heavy weight on his shoulder, in this memory, a warm body. _He—or, well, past Keith—looked up, alarm flaring up in his chest. He thought he'd taken everyone out— But it wasn't someone from the Garrison. There were three idiots standing in the doorway. The lanky one walked towards him._

 _"Nope. No, you—No, no, no. No, you don't. I'm saving Shiro," the lanky guy declared, holding up his finger as if he had any sort of authority. Jeez, what was that idiot even doing here?_

Lance snorted out a laugh, ignoring the questioning looks he got from Hunk and Shiro. He had almost forgotten that they were still around at all. There were more important things to focus on, after all. 

Like Keith showing him the memory of how they first met. Well, their first meeting after Keith had forgotten their glorious rivalry back at the Garrison. So Keith really _did_ remember them. 

Lance made sure to send one of his own memories Keith's way. One of the earlier days in the Garrison. _Lance slouching in his chair in the last row, Hunk next to him and listening to Lance's complaints about having to take theoretical classes. Practice was where the fun was at. Not this mathematical crap._

There were a few familiar faces around the room, but this time remembering it, Lance mostly focused on one a few rows in front of him, off to the side. _A permanent frown, thick brows, and a mullet. A fucking mullet. In this century. In this **millennium**. Jesus Christ, who had robbed that guy of his fashion sense? _

Another twinkle of amusement came from Keith's side of the link. Lance could feel his own smile growing. Exchanging memories like this was sort of fun. 

A new memory brightened up in Keith's mind. _There was Lance, grinning and gesturing around with so much enthusiasm, he might poke someone's eye out. "Just watch it, mullet," past Lance declared confidently, his loud voice seeming to fill up the entire training deck of the Castle. "I can lift more than you any day!" And with those words, he lifted up the weights. Or tried to. They weren't actually moving anywhere._

Lance knew very well that those weights would _stay_ unmoving, and wisely backed out of the memory. There were better things to look at, surely. Stories where he hadn't embarrassed himself quite that much. 

He looked around, as much as one could look around in a telepathically conveyed mindscape, and only then noticed that there was one part completely sealed off from the rest. One part that he couldn't reach. He wondered for a moment if those were things Keith didn't want him to see or things Keith didn't want to remember himself. Or maybe it was both? 

Whatever the reason was, Lance knew better than to push, and slowly backed away. A dizzy feeling hit him, quickly identified as exhaustion, and that was odd, since he wasn't doing anything that was particularly exerting. A moment later he realized that it wasn't his own exhaustion, it was Keith's. 

He looked up at the Galra, his eyes having slid closed at some point, and noted how his mind melding partner didn't look all that good. Keith was lavender, which Lance guessed to be the Galra version of pale, and he looked like he'd just run a marathon without training. His chest was heaving too hard for someone who was only sitting around. And while Lance had gotten used to the dark circles under Keith's eyes, they now definitely looked worse. 

Was mind melding really this hard on Keith? Maybe doing this hadn't been such a good idea after all. Either way, it seemed like it was time to stop. 

"Keith. Buddy," Lance tried to get the other's attention, but Keith didn't move. Maybe he was just too focused on his own mind by now? But Lance could work around that. He closed his eyes and slipped into Keith's mind once again. He could just convey to Keith here that they should stop now, easy, no problem at all. 

… Was Keith going to be at any specific point in his own mind? Or should Lance just, like, blurt it out? Mentally? This was Keith's mind, so wasn't Keith by definition everywhere? But then how come that right now Keith felt so—distant, in his own mind? 

Lance carefully felt around, and noticed a bunch of memory lights that stuck close together, at the very proverbial back of Keith's mind. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to take a look, but then they brightened up for a few seconds before dimming down again. And the same thing happened again. All the lights shining brighter, a few others close to the cluster lighting up as well, before they slowly lost intensity once more. The whole thing repeated itself a third time. 

More than just a little intrigued, Lance couldn't help but step even closer. He reached out, hesitantly, and brushed against one of the memories, just enough to get a small glimpse. 

_It was digging deeper into his shoulder, sharp and burning, hot wet blood trickling down his chest, the smell of burnt cloth and flesh, his own flesh, and it hurt, it hurt, digging even deeper—_

_"Are you ready to talk yet?" The grin pulled over the Galra's face in an ugly way, the scar on his chin stretching with it. What had been his name? He'd heard it somewhere. Rovik? What did the Galra's name even matter? It didn't matter._

_His team was going to come and get him out of here. Soon._

_"Fuck off," he growled out, the two words sucking up all the air still in his lungs, so he couldn't scream when Rovik pushed in the second blade, jagged and glowing with heat just like the first, sinking into his flesh a mere inch from the other one. He choked on empty lungs, unable to scream from lack of air, unable to breathe because his body wanted to scream as his flesh burnt away, and it hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt—_

Lance pulled back out of the memory, shaking or maybe not, he wasn't sure. He was still stuck in Keith's mind, and the memory was glowing so much brighter now, bathing him in its light that didn't feel like light anymore, everything else lighting up around it as well. Off-handedly, Lance thought to himself that maybe, possibly, Keith hadn't lit these memories up to share them, but instead had been trying to keep them dimmed down. Forgotten. 

Now it was too late. 

The light crashed down around him like a tidal wave, ripping his feet out from under him and sucking away the energy of every other memory that had been there. 

There was something far away, a voice, a called out "Lance!", and he tried to pull back, but then there was a touch on his wrist and the next light swallowed him up, dragged him down, pulled him in and— 

_The cuffs were digging into his wrists, bruising pale skin purple and red, as he struggled to get out of his bonds, out of his cell, off this ship, he couldn't stay here, he couldn't just sit and wait for them any longer, he couldn't endure this anymore—_

"Keith!" Hunk called out, panic in his voice, terror on his face, tears in his eyes, _blood smeared on his skin and Pidge cradled in his arms, her slim torso torn open, bones and guts spilling out between Hunk's fingers even as he tried to save her, and he had to do something but he couldn't, he couldn't because none of this was real, he had to believe that, he couldn't fall for it again— "Don't just sit there, Keith!" Hunk choked out around snot and tears and desperation, "You have to help me, help her, please, she'll die! Just help me, some basic first aid, keep her most vital functions going—"_

_It was a trick, a trap. It had to be. He couldn't fall for it._

_Was he really going to risk Pidge's life like this? What if this was real? What if she died? What kind of monster would he be to gamble with her life like this?_

_Some sort of monster for sure._

_He had to be. Who else could just silently watch on as Pidge's life slowly drained out of her, and do nothing?_

What had he done, what had he done, what had he been _thinking_? There was fear choking around his throat, he couldn't _breathe, the alien's foot was pushing down on his chest, crushing his ribs and his lungs and he wouldn't die like this, anger burning in his chest, the last thing keeping him going. With a choked snarl, he dug in his claws and ripped through flesh and veins and tendons, until the alien howled and let up enough for him to slip out. He couldn't waste any time, didn't thi—_

Something tore at him painfully, but it stopped, he was out, desperately sucking air into his lungs. He had to breathe, he had to breathe, he had to stop shaking— 

"Will you talk?" the masked alien asked, its voice like nails on a chalkboard, causing his heart to squeeze painfully in his chest. 

"Never," he hissed, barely able to move his lips. 

The alien chuckled. Black electric energy began to crackle in its hand, and he braced himself for the impact. It burned his skin and was pure agony in his bones, worse than knives and acid and fire. But he'd endure it. He had to. 

He would never give up his team. 

The alien's hand closed around his arm, searing into his flesh, and despite everything he'd already been through, it seemed to feel even worse this time. He screamed and shook, mind enveloped by pain, it hurt, it _hurt_ , his heartbeat rabbiting away inside his chest, keeping him alive despite it all, and he wouldn't be surprised if it were to just stop at some point, and wouldn't even mind that much as long as everything else would just stop, too— 

The electricity burned through his skin, he could feel blood running, then burning into crusts, and it didn't stop, it didn't stop, it hurt— 

An eternity later, the burning didn't stop but instead became even more unbearable, and for a second, he forced himself to focus enough to turn his head and look at his arm. His gaze wandered over his prisoner uniform to pale flesh to burnt flesh to flesh that was charred black to the white bones of his lower arm—there were only bones— 

He blacked out. 

 

He woke up and there were hands pulling at him, and he couldn't remember anymore if he was chained down or not, but he wouldn't go down without a fight, he couldn't— 

"Lance!" a desperate voice called out. Shiro's voice. 

A single image flickered up, tugged along by the sound. _Lance, a soft smile on his face, sitting on the Bridge surrounded by holograms, blanket thrown over his shoulders_ — 

Darkness. 

Everything was suddenly ripped away from around him. Everything that had spilled over him, tugged him under, torn him apart, was suddenly gone. 

There were hands on him, and he flinched away. He stumbled, fell forward, against something cold and hard. There was something wet on his face. Blood? 

Slowly, the world cleared back up. 

Lance sucked in a shaking breath, bracing himself for the next bad thing to break down over him—but nothing happened. 

"Lance." That was Hunk's voice. 

Slowly he turned around to face his friend, barely able to move with the way his body was shaking. His gaze fell down to his wrist for a moment, and he took in the flesh there, the unmarred skin. 

It hadn't been real. 

Thank God, it hadn't been real. It had felt like it but none of it had really happened. It—It had only happened to Keith. 

"Lance." Hunk's voice again. Warm hands settled on his shoulder. He leant into the touch, suddenly swooped up in a hug against Hunk's chest, a sob tearing itself out of its throat. Gentle fingers pried the mind melding device from his head. 

Lance could barely focus, barely think. Images were still swirling through his mind, memories that weren't his own, haunting him and not letting go. 

"What happened?" he got out, not really sure how. 

"We don't know," Shiro murmured from somewhere he couldn't see, somewhere that wasn't Hunk's shoulder. "Suddenly you both stopped moving. We thought that after a moment or two, you'd snap out of it, like Hunk did. But you didn't. When we called your names, you started crying, and you wouldn't let us touch you." 

"You really scared me there, buddy," Hunk murmured, squeezing him closer. Lance didn't mind and thanked his best friend by making the already wet spot on his shoulder even wetter. "We didn't know how to get you out of there. You were only gone for about a minute, but—it was still terrifying." 

Lance nodded silently, then suddenly went tense. Here he was, cuddling Hunk, but what about Keith? 

He turned around as much as he could in Hunk's tight hold, vision still blurry from tears, burning eyes searching the cell. 

Keith sat in his usual spot. Curled up tight. Face hidden behind his knees. Ears flat down, tips trembling badly. All of Keith was trembling badly. There wasn't a single sound to be heard from the Galra, but Lance had no doubts that whatever was going on inside of him, it was hell. 

There was no headset on the Keith's head. 

Lance opened his mouth, trying to formulate the question that he knew was there, but before he had to talk, Shiro was answering already. 

"He tore it off." Shiro's voice sounded so steady, but there was something beneath it. Lance didn't know if he had the energy to figure it out right now. Shiro glanced over at him. "That's how you got out of it. I think—he's still remembering." 

"God," Lance breathed out, voice cracking on the single syllable. Keith was still going through that? "We—We have to _do_ something!" 

"We'll probably only make it worse," Shiro muttered, something quiet and bitter in his voice. 

"But—" Lance protested, then cut himself off when he noticed the pained look in Shiro's eyes. Shiro knew what it was like to be swept away by memories like that. Of course he wanted to help Keith. He just knew enough not to accidentally make it worse. 

Like Lance had. 

He had brought this on Keith, by sneaking around in his memories. And Keith had pushed him out, just so Lance wouldn't have to suffer through it any longer. 

Keith had _been_ through all of that. Oh God. The Galra had cut Keith open and burned his arm down to his bones and tried to lure information out him with illusions and now Keith was experiencing that all over. 

Lance shuddered. It blurred in with his general shaking. 

He felt like shit. 

"Hunk, can you take Lance somewhere else and stay with him?" Shiro asked. "I'll stay here with Keith." 

"Sure," Hunk agreed, shuffling to his feet without jostling Lance too much, then actually picking him up. At another point, Lance might have cared about his dignity, but right now he didn't. Instead, he wrapped his legs around Hunk's waist, arms around his friend's neck, and quietly sniffled away into the other's shoulder. 

He doubted that Keith would get any hugs to deal with this. 

_Fuck_. 

 

***** 

 

Shiro showed up late after dinner, looking beyond exhausted and incredibly worried. He told them that Keith was at least reacting again. In some capacity. Lance didn't have it in him to ask follow-up questions. 

Pidge stormed into the room a few minutes later. 

"I know where we need to go!" she called out, the glint of determination and hope in her eyes drowning out most of the worry. 

Lance made an effort to smile at that. It probably wasn't very successful. 

He'd leave the explanations for that to someone else. Anyone else. 

He just wanted to go to sleep and forget. 

Would Sam or Matt Holt be like this, when, if they found him? 

 

***** 

 

He didn't get much sleep that night. The memories that he had seen were still swirling through his mind like angry bees, eager to play out again and again and again as soon as he closed his eyes. 

Was it always like this for Keith? No wonder the poor guy looked like he never slept. He probably couldn't. 

In the early hours of morning, the memories slowly faded away. They weren't gone, but they were no longer as prominent. Far away enough that Lance could ignore them. He felt relieved. Then he felt guilty. Keith probably couldn't just ignore this. 

The image he'd seen of himself flickered back up in his mind, thoughts buzzing around it. It was such an odd memory from Keith. Lance was pretty sure that they had never sat together on the Bridge like that, and that blanket draped over his shoulders was completely unfamiliar to him. 

Keith had kicked him out of his memories at that point to spare Lance any more suffering, right? Not because he was hiding something from them? 

Just considering the possibility didn't sit well with Lance. After all, it was his fault that Keith had remembered all those things. But there had been that bunch of memories that Keith had kept completely sealed away. And like any person who couldn't have something, Lance couldn't shake the burning curiosity in his gut, the wish to know what was hidden there. 

Was it worse than what he had seen? 

But with his tired mind, he couldn't find any answers. He let go of it eventually. 

Sleep finally swept over him. 

 

***** 

 

Lance slept in. As did Hunk and Pidge. 

They all showed up for lunch goo looking like very tired zombies, but when Lance suggested that with such a huge amount of people getting up late, they should maybe just reset the day and night cycles of the ship, everyone cracked a smile. 

There was something tense in the air, crackling like static, just like it had been when they were getting ready for Keith's rescue. 

With a few hours of sleep between him and what he had seen of Keith's memories, Lance's head finally felt clearer and he could fully focus on Pidge's announcement. If either Sam or Matt Holt—whichever of them it was—were here, they would know soon. They would find him. Free him. Pidge would finally see someone from her family again. 

Their ETA was about an hour. Then, for the next few hours, they would all have to do their best. No matter what Lance felt like at the moment. He knew that. Just for now, worrying about Keith could not be the most important thing on his mind. It would be rescuing Pidge's family. 

 

***** 

 

Fun trivia facts about the Galra Empire: Apparently, they had also 'taken over' planets that were uninhabited, but held a lot of resources. Apparently, the Galra did not feel like harvesting those resources themselves. So, in lieu of a native population to exploit as workers, the Galra apparently sent prisoners there to do their work for them. 

Apparently one of those planets, GXQ-498528, was where Pidge's father or brother was now. Or at least they were all hoping so. As much as one could hope for a person to be exploited for physical labor somewhere, anyway. 

On the bright side of things, the planet wasn't guarded very well by the Galra, seeing as it was only a mining colony for them, and the most difficult part about defeating them was to make sure that no innocent prisoners got caught in the crossfire. That made things a little more complicated than usual, but after many hours of battle the Galra were finally defeated, most of them scurrying off in space ships to somewhere else. Lance didn't exactly know where to, but at the moment none of them really cared. 

No one had gotten badly injured during the fight, and so they all split up and set out on the planet to officially tell the prisoners that they were free now. With, of course, the intention to find one of the missing Holts somewhere. 

Pidge quickly hacked into the Galra's systems that had been left behind, and then coordinated their efforts. Lance would certainly not complain about being sent to tell poor aliens that they no longer had to fear the Galra. 

He could hear cheering erupting all over the place, the message spreading like wildfire—and yeah, seeing four magical Lions in the sky fighting Galra, then said Galra taking off had probably also helped with assuring the prisoners that they were safe now—and all that joy and relief around him finally washed away the lingering worry about Keith. 

The aliens around him all looked a little worse for wear, and a few of them would probably need the healing pods, but there was a general thrum of happiness in the air that was hard to ignore. With his paladin armor clearly identifying him as one of the people who had chased off the Galra, Lance got to hear many very heartfelt 'thank-you's, people streaming towards him from all sides as he tried to make his way through the sector where he was supposed to look for Pidge's family. With so many aliens around him and celebrating him, however, that was not an easy task—not that Lance was complaining. He was definitely not. It was always nice to be celebrated after freeing an entire planet. Maybe he could speed up his search by asking the freed prisoners to carry him on their hands? It would be for a good cause, after all. 

Alas, Lance never got that far. 

"Guys, I found him! Matt Holt is here," Hunk's excited voice screeched into his ear from this helmet without warning. 

In his surprise, Lance almost choked on his own spit. 

Pidge's brother was really here? That was great! Well, not for Lance personally, seeing as he never met the guy, but it was great for Pidge and Shiro. Hopefully, the poor guy would be in better condition than Keith had been when they had found him. But judging by Hunk's happy voice, things had to be pretty okay. 

While Lance was still trying to find the right words to say 'Congrats, I'm really glad the dude we were looking for is okay and also here', Pidge and Shiro seemed to face no such issues. Immediately after Hunk's announcement, they both began shooting questions, steadily increasing in volume. "Where is he?" and "Where are you now?" and "Is he alright?" and "Should we come your way?" and "Has he said anything about Dad, is he here, too?" and everything after that got too loud and garbled to understand. 

"He's fine and I'm taking him back to the Castle," Hunk all but yelled over the excited chattering, then closed his side of the comm link with an audible _click_. Lance couldn't fault his friend for that—his ears were ringing from the barrage of loud, though understandable questions. 

Not that he didn't want to meet Matt Holt himself. He turned around and quickly—as quickly as possible, anyway—made his way back through the throng of aliens. 

By the time the front of the Castle came into sight, there was already a small group of people standing there. Hunk was the most obvious to spot, his wide body with the yellow highlights on his armor some way off of the main group. Said main group was a bit harder to identify, as it was mostly a huge mass of entangled limbs. 

As Lance got closer, he could make out Shiro's black helmet, and the way his arms were wrapped around the other two people in the pile. One of them was clearly Pidge. The other one—well the other one looked like a taller, male version of Pidge, and had a huge smile on his face as he hugged the two paladins. 

Lance felt a grin stretching over his own lips as he stayed back from the reunion he was witnessing, instead stepping closer to Hunk. 

"I'm pretty sure I could go up in flames right now and they wouldn't notice," Hunk murmured quietly. 

Lance snickered. "Yeah, you and me both, buddy." 

Not that he really minded. Those three looked incredibly happy together. 

 

***** 

 

"So, Matt is in the pod now, recovering, and we have collectively given up on trying to get Shiro or Pidge to leave the room. I mean, we did try, but they can both be scary. And it's not like I don't get it or anything," Lance explained, nodding along to his own words. 

Keith's expression was neutral enough, but Lance was sure that he still appreciated being up to date on what was happening on the Castle ship. Keith would leave the cell and go back to being a paladin one day, after all, and then he shouldn't be freaked out thinking that they had cloned Pidge or something. 

"The bad news is," Lance went on, "that Matt pretty much confirmed that their dad is dead. That was a tough blow. Pidge and Shiro took it in stride, though. I mean, they were expecting it after what Pidge found in her data, and it looked like they were pretty hyped up on getting Matt back still. The only thing that kinda confuses me is that I don't get how Matt even _knows_ that their father is dead? I mean, Pidge didn't mention anything about the two prisoners whose data she was tracking ever being put in the same place again. But maybe she just didn't bring it up? Or maybe the Galra told Matt about their dead father out of spite?" 

Keith's expression was blank as ever, obviously not as interested in these questions as Lance was. He'd looked kind of intrigued when he'd first heard that they found Matt, but not really all that much. Lance guessed that made sense—Keith was still pretty reluctant to express emotions other than anger, even more so than before the Galra had caught him, and it made sense that he had no particular feelings towards Matt Holt, having never met the guy. Maybe Keith and Matt could bond over being prisoners of the Galra or something, but Lance doubted that. Keith really didn't seem like he was going to make new friends any time soon. 

"I'm pretty sure Pidge will bring him down here to meet you, once he wakes up. To meet the whole crew and stuff," Lance rambled on. "Is it cool with you if he comes down here? Because none of us really know what to expect from you, and we don't want to freak either of you out by pushing for things too early." 

Keith looked contemplative for a moment, then shrugged in an 'I don't care' way. 

Lance wondered if Keith even knew how he would react. He'd steadily warmed up to Allura, but still didn't want to talk to Coran for some odd reason. And Lance had no idea how Keith had felt when that rescued prisoner had found their way down to Keith's cell, but he didn't think it had been anything good. 

Now, though, Keith looked willing enough to meet Matt Holt. Lance sighed and accepted that answer with a nod, even though he had his doubts. 

Keith had been so incredibly reluctant in the beginning to react in any way at all, but for the past few days his progress had been incredible. Talking to Allura, allowing them into the cell, allowing them to mind meld... 

As happy as Lance had been about all that at first, it was starting to feel like Keith was pushing for too much too fast. Like it was going to end badly for them if they kept going at this breakneck speed, with something as fragile as Keith's recovery. Lance knew that he could be pretty impulsive and adventurous himself, so if even he felt like this, didn't that have to mean something? 

On the other hand, he didn't have the heart to say 'no' when Keith was willing to try new things. Keith could get better at his own pace, right? Not at Lance's. Maybe this was just what Keith needed. The dude had always been pretty 'all or nothing' about things. And the sooner they got Keith out of that cell and back to a somewhat normal self, the better. Right? 

With another sigh, Lance got to his feet and waved Keith goodbye. 

All of those deep thoughts aside, it was getting time for dinner and he was hungry. And he'd have to tell the others that Keith was willing to meet Matt Holt, once the poor guy got out of the pod. 

 

***** 

 

Dinner was a loud and lively affair. The room was _packed_. 

Matt Holt was out of the pod already, and Pidge and Shiro were practically glued to his side. Hunk created celebratory blue goo for them that the three of them barely touched, too busy talking to each other. There was the occasional tear in their eyes, which the rest of them pretended not to see. Hunk, Coran, Allura, and Lance himself threw in a question sometimes, but mostly they listened to the Holts and Shiro catching up. Lance eventually stole Pidge's bowl of blue goo to himself, and shared his spoils with the space mice. 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Pidge and Shiro this happy, this relieved. Had he ever? There had been little joy to go around when they'd found Keith, what with him being all purple and angry and murderous. They had all been pretty happy when they had reunited after being scattered all over the galaxy when their wormhole got corrupted by Haggar's magic, or so Lance guessed. 

It was good to see his team mates smiling so much. Good to have everyone in one place again, finally. 

Lance really hoped that Keith would be able to be up here, talking and eating and laughing with them soon. 

 

***** 

 

He headed back down to Keith's cell after dinner, despite Coran's attempts at procuring his help in cleaning the east wing of the Castle. The east wing could wait, really. Keith deserved some company. It was sad to think that most of the time, the poor guy was just sitting in his cell, all alone. 

"Hey," Lance greeted him with a smile, Keith's head turning towards him in acknowledgement. "Mind if I come in?" 

Keith's gaze rested heavily on him for a moment. Lance couldn't help but notice once more how tired the Galra looked. There were dark circles etched beneath yellow eyes, seeming to get worse every time Lance came by. They definitely looked darker now, after their mind melding had resulted in Keith getting flashbacks—and that had only been yesterday, after all. With how much had happened, getting Matt Holt back, it felt like so much more time had passed since then. 

Lance had to admit that he felt exhausted, too. He could hardly wait to fall into bed later and get some decent sleep, now that the memories had finally faded away enough to let him rest—he didn't think Keith would have it that easy. It really was no wonder the poor guy looked like he hadn't slept properly in weeks. Not that there was anything Lance could do to help, as much as he wanted to. 

Keith moved, effectively startling Lance out of his thoughts, and it took the blue paladin a moment to register it as a nod. 

"Thanks, buddy," Lance muttered, placing his hand on the scanning panel, then sliding the cell open and slowly stepping inside. 

Keith didn't make an effort to move away at all. Instead, he stayed rooted in his usual spot, which was only a few steps from the now open doorway. 

It wasn't what Lance had expected. They hadn't been that close to each other in months, not without the space glass between them as an insurmountable barrier. But now Keith was there, almost in touching distance, looking a bit tense and nervous but calm enough. 

Lance took a shuddering breath and slid the space glass closed behind him, knowing that he could open it again at any time since it wasn't locked. Very hesitantly, he inched closer, settling down on the ground next to Keith, leaning back against the wall of the cell just like the Galra did. He stretched out his legs, hands in his lap. His fingers began fiddling with the hem of his jacket nervously. 

If he were to move his elbow to the side, he'd be brushing against Keith. 

They were so _close_. 

And Keith was looking at him, Lance could practically feel it. Lance's heart picked up speed, and he sent a short prayer out that, with his huge ears, Keith wouldn't be able to hear it. 

This close, the dark bags beneath Keith's eyes were even more prominent. If only there was something Lance could do to help—he hesitated. They were so close now, almost mirroring that night about a month ago, when Lance had finally achieved their first breakthrough by singing to Keith. Back then, Keith hadn't looked nearly as tired, but he'd still dozed off to Lance's singing. Maybe Lance's angelic voice would help Keith get some rest now, too? 

"Hey," Lance suggested eagerly, pushing down hard on the desire to reach out and poke Keith's side. He could do that with the rest of the team, but not here. Not with Keith. Keith had never seemed like a touchy person even before the Galra had gotten their claws on him, and touching him unexpectedly now would most certainly end in disaster. So, no poking. At all. Lance cleared his throat nervously, trying for a smile. "Want me to sing for you again?" 

Keith blinked at him. Then shrugged. 

Lance squinted, cocking his head to the side. "Was that a 'yes' shrug or an 'I don't care' shrug? I'm not really sure." 

Keith huffed. A pink tongue peeked out over purple lips for a short moment—there was a wet shine to Keith's lips after that, the lights of the cell reflecting, and Lance's heartbeat did something decidedly strange—then sharp fangs bit down on the purple skin, the tongue disappearing behind them, and Lance's brain staggered back into working mode. 

He really hoped Keith hadn't noticed his staring. Keith might take it the wrong way, after all, and assume that Lance took issue with his Galra looks. Which Lance did not. Really, really not. No issues here. 

Except for the one where Keith had been sort of pretty before, and was still pretty now, and Lance found himself still staring at his pretty purple lips, and he wasn't so deep in self-denial that he didn't know what this meant. 

But this really wasn't the time or place for thoughts like that, so Lance did his best to shove them to the very back of his mind, and stared as intently as humanly possible at his own hands. 

"You can sing," Keith murmured quietly—so close to Lance, dear God, they were still so _close_ —and Lance nodded quickly, hoping the awkward tingling in his stomach would go away soon. 

Voice a bit scratchy from nerves, he started singing. He began quietly, not wanting to accidentally startle Keith. But over the course of a few upbeat songs, he loosened up and steadily got louder, relaxing into this new situation. 

Despite how tired he got once his fluttering nerves died down, he kept singing. Keith hadn't fallen asleep yet, and Lance really wanted to do this for his friend. Fellow paladin. Team mate. 

Only it didn't seem to be working the way he'd planned it. 

" _Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, I shake it off, I shake it off_ —" he trailed off eventually, glancing over at Keith. Who did still not look sleepy or even really impressed at all. Damn it. Maybe Lance was losing his touch? Maybe Keith was getting too used to his singing. That would suck. 

As Lance stopped singing, Keith's brows rose in question. 

"I feel like this isn't really working," Lance explained, trying not to sound as disappointed as he felt. "I'm trying to help you relax here, buddy. Is my singing not good enough for you anymore? Should I go and get Hunk? Or maybe—" his face lit up with a devilish smirk, as he suddenly had _the best_ idea— "this just isn't quite hitting your taste? Don't worry, mullet bro. I've got'cha." 

Lance took a deep breath. Keith's ears perked up curiously. 

"[ _When I was_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pInrJ72eeUU)," Lance bolted out at the top of his lungs, " _a young boy_ —" 

Keith's face was doing the funniest things next to him, but not looking angry at all. More like he was stuck somewhere between offense and amusement, his nose all scrunched up which was unexpectedly cute, so Lance kept going. 

" _My father_ ," he hollered passionately, " _took me into the city_ —" 

A growling sound rose from Keith's chest, sharp fangs gleaming in the light of the cell, and Lance would have backed down if it hadn't been for Keith's obvious amusement and exasperation, the growling sound quickly identified as a stifled chortle. 

" _To see a marching band!_ " Delighted at Keith's reaction, Lance took a deep breath to keep going. " _He said 'Son, when you grow up, would you be'_ —" 

Keith was outright snickering now, his purple ears angled forward and bobbing up and down in the funniest way. 

Lance was all but glowing with happiness, belting out the next few lines, then taking another deep breath to give it his all. 

"— _a phantom, to lead you in the summer, to join the black paraaaaade!_ " Lance dragged the word out for as long as his lungs allowed, gasping in air to reenact the instrumental part, getting so into it that he began swinging his arms along, a vague imitation of drumming, " _Da! Da da da! Da da da di da da da da_ —" 

In hindsight, he should have known that he should have paid better attention. 

One moment he was singing and waving his arms around without a thought— 

Then there was a disconnect, time skipping out on him, and suddenly there was a later moment, when everything was already over and done with. 

When Lance's arm had gotten close to Keith's face and Keith had slapped it away. 

And now there was a moment when they were staring at each other in shocked silence, both blue and yellow eyes wide as saucers, one _da_ caught halfway in Lance's throat. 

Actually, a lot of moments went by that way, because neither of them dared to move. 

Lance's and Keith's hands were still up between them, about an inch of distance now where skin had just met skin. 

"Keith," Lance choked out somehow, flinching at how loud and squawking his voice came out. Keith flinched as well—more specifically, away from Lance. "I'm—I'm sorry, I shouldn't have— Are you okay?" 

Keith's eyes were still so wide, almost round, but Lance could barely read the expression in them. Was Keith angry? Scared? Or feeling as shell-shocked as Lance did right now? 

A shiver went through Keith's body, all the way up into his ears. The Galra pulled back his hand, fingers curling into a fist tight enough that Lance got worried Keith might break his own skin with those sharp claws. 

"Are you okay?" Keith threw Lance's own question back at him without answering, voice strangely thin and hollow, only serving to worry Lance even more. 

Having learnt his lesson about ignoring what Keith said, Lance nodded firmly. "Yeah," he answered, trying to sound steady and calm despite the worry pressing down on his chest. He wiggled his hand, angling it from left to right to show that no damage had been done. "See? I'm all good. What about you, Keith?" 

Keith didn't move, eyes still wide and now focused on Lance's hand, if Lance wasn't mistaken. A few agonizingly long moments passed that way. 

"Keith," Lance tried again, doing his best to keep his voice soft. "Keith, it's okay. I'm okay. Are you? Please, talk to me. Is something wrong?" 

More time passed. Then, Keith let out a shuddering breath, his entire body curling in on itself defensively. Keith's gaze fell down to his own hand, the one that had just touched Lance's. "You're okay?" he asked again, voice cracking slightly. 

Lance swallowed nervously, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Keith, I told you. I'm fine." 

Was Keith worried that he'd hurt Lance somehow? There was no way this brief touch could have seriously injured Lance in any way. But maybe Keith was just really concerned about his new Galra claws? Having this new part of himself and then hurting one of them with it, even just slightly, might be upsetting. Lance could see some sort of logic behind it, even if it was a crass contrast to the times when Keith got angry and tried to murder them with said claws. 

As Keith was still not replying, Lance decided he had to try something more. 

"Keith," he murmured softly, very slowly raising his hand. "Is it okay if I touch you?" 

Keith's gaze snapped over to him immediately, eyes wide once more. Purple ears trembled. Lance wasn't sure if it was just his own imagination or if there was a wet sheen settling over Keith's eyes. 

Time trickled away slowly between them, but Lance didn't back down. Keith's gaze looked more contemplative than completely freaked out at the moment, and Lance would wait for as long as necessary to get an answer. 

His arm kind of hurt from how long he'd been holding it up, by the time Keith finally moved. 

Very slowly, Keith's hands curled open again and moved towards Lance's. 

Lance waited with baited breath as Keith hesitated a few inches shy of touching him. Purple fingers twitched, shaking slightly, the light catching on sharp claws. 

Lance waited. 

Keith moved his hand, angling his fingers so his claws wouldn't come into contact with Lance's skin. But the pads of his fingers brushed over the back of Lance's hand, soft and warm, before they settled there. Keith's fingers were trembling almost as much as Keith's ears. 

A relieved laugh fought a sob deep inside of Lance's chest—a choked little noise made its way out eventually. Lance's eyes felt as wet as Keith's looked, locked onto each other once again, both of them overflowing with emotion. 

"Hey there, buddy," Lance murmured softly, a grin pushing up his cheeks and crinkling his eyes, pooling even more wetness there. He reached out with his other hand, and Keith didn't move, just sucked in flat little breaths, sitting completely still as Lance's hand cupped his shoulder. 

Then slid around to his back. 

Then pulled Keith close against Lance's chest. 

Keith's fingers were trembling where they were now resting against Lance's shoulders, still angled awkwardly so Keith's claws wouldn't touch him. Keith's ear was trembling where it was now squished against the side of Lance's face. Actually, all of Keith was trembling. Lance thought he might have been trembling, too—he wasn't even sure. 

A small, strangled noise tore its way out of Keith's throat, and years of hugging friends and family kicked in for Lance, his hands moving to rub circles into Keith's back on their own, still holding the other close. The collar around Keith's throat was digging into Lance's shoulder uncomfortably. Lance ignored it. 

"It's okay," he murmured quietly, no longer referring to himself potentially being hurt. They were way past that. 

Keith sucked in a wet breath, still shaking like a leaf in Lance's arms. 

"It's okay," Lance repeated softly. "I've got you. It's okay." 

There was no reply, not with words. Lance could hear stifled little noises, muffled against his shoulder. Growing into frantic, choked sobs with time. 

Lance kept rubbing Keith's back and murmuring reassurances, until the sobs tapered off into sniffles. Until there was only the occasional hitched breath, hours later. Until long after the Castle lights had dimmed to night mode. 

He held on until Keith's shaking stopped, and then he kept holding on anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a wild ride :') Some more memories of Keith's time as a prisoner, me dragging out the Blanket Mystery, Matt is back... Also that last scene, haha :') You (and Keith) had to wait for that forever. My bad. I'm kind of amazed you readers stuck around for so long. This fic is almost 78,000 words long by now, which is about the first book of Harry Potter, and the main couple just _hugged_ for the first time. Is there some sort of award for Slow Burn? I'd like to sign up for that.
> 
> As for the next update, no idea when that will be out. Hopefully it won't be as long as this time, but I don't want to make any promises I can't keep. My internship started and between that and sports I have like one (1) free day a week, which is mostly leveraged by friends :') I'm still working on the fic occasionally, though, so let's hope for the best. The next chapter is going to kick off what I'm considering this fic's "mid-season finale", and I'm actually very excited to get to that part! But for now, enjoy the floaty pink cloud of Hurt/Comfort ;)


	13. But it's gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's eyes widened even more, then narrowed into suspicious slits. Actually, Lance had no idea how he could have ever thought Keith's eyes were hard to read without pupils—they were probably the most expressive thing about Keith, along with the huge ears. Which Lance really couldn't read, since he had never interacted with someone with bat ears before. Life was tricky like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from '[When We Come Alive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeCbS2NFluA)' by Switchfoot. Very warm and hopeful, but don't let that fool you. This chapter is heading somewhere else >:)
> 
> This chapter has been beta-ed by the wonderful [whoopsitsmeme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whoopsitsmeme/pseuds/whoopsitsmeme) and the amazing [gappylulu](https://gappylulu.tumblr.com/). Sorry as always that it took so long :')  
> A huge thank you to anyone who left kudos and comments! Every single one had me squealing with happiness and it really did a lot to motivate me to work on this fic. We have big things ahead of us here and it's thanks to you!

Lance woke up to a sharp pain at his waist. Not a terrible sort of pain—it was uncomfortable, seeing as it was pain, but not unbearably so. It felt like when his neighbors' cat had scratched him, back when he'd been ten years old and too eager to play with it.

Of course his neighbors' cat was not aboard the Castle ship when he opened his eyes.

The first thing he took in was that it was bright—day lights instead of night lights, which meant that he had to have slept for quite a while, after staying in Keith's cell so late. Speaking of Keith's cell, he was pretty sure he hadn't left at any point, which explained the cold hard floor he was lying on.

And probably the warm weight pressing down on his chest, too.

Lance dared a glance down.

Yup, that was Keith.

He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep in Keith's cell. He couldn't believe Keith had fallen asleep _on top of him_.

He really hoped the sudden stuttering of his heartbeat wouldn't wake Keith up. But judging by Keith's scrunched up expression, the sleeping Galra was dealing with other issues at the moment.

Like nightmares.

Lance swallowed. Now that he'd gotten a taste of Keith's memories himself, he really felt sorry for his friend. Whatever was going on in Keith's mind right now, it had to be pretty awful.

Lance shifted a bit, trying to get his left arm out from under Keith, and Keith's expression screwed up further, claws digging harder into Lance's side where Keith's hands were resting on Lance's skin, Lance's shirt having ridden up at some point. Peering down revealed the thin red lines Keith had left behind so far—which explained why Lance had woken up. Another mystery solved.

The memory from last night came to mind, how Keith had been so terribly worried about potentially having hurt Lance, and Lance quickly decided that Keith not seeing those scratches would be for the best. Now that he was thinking about it—Keith had freaked out after waking up from nightmares before. And if that were to happen again right now—well, it wouldn't be good, that much was certain.

Slowly, Lance pulled down his shirt, hiding the small scratches from view. Next up was taking a hold of Keith's wrists and shuffling out from under Keith's grasp as sneakily as possible. But despite how careful he was being, he could already see Keith's eyes fluttering open.

So much for sneakily shuffling away.

"Morning, Keith," Lance drawled, hoping his smile didn't look as awkward as it felt. It probably did. He let go of the Galra's hands and sat up, using the opportunity to get a little distance between them.

Keith blinked sleepily, hazy yellow eyes settling on Lance after a few beats of silence. Then the Galra jolted up, eyes wide, voice cracking on a "Lan—" before he bit it back down.

Lance stiffened, pulling the already forced grin even wider. "Looks like I fell asleep in here last night. Didn't mean to. Sorry."

Keith's eyes widened even more, then narrowed into suspicious slits. Actually, Lance had no idea how he could have ever thought Keith's eyes were hard to read without pupils—they were probably the most expressive thing about Keith, along with the huge ears. Which Lance really couldn't read, since he had never interacted with someone with bat ears before. Life was tricky like that.

A tense silence stretched on between them as Keith was staring Lance down and Lance was busy looking at everything but Keith. He noticed not one, but two bowls with green goo at the hatch, one of them with a water pouch next to it. So Hunk had brought Keith breakfast already.

And seen Lance in here, all but cuddling with Keith. Upon which Hunk had brought him breakfast as well. And a water pouch, so he wouldn't have to sneak one of Keith's.

Hunk was officially the best. Unless he was going to tease Lance about this later.

If Lance successfully survived this very awkward morning after, that was.

"So," Lance muttered, clearing his throat and pointing towards the two bowls. "You, uh, wanna have breakfast? Once you're done staring at me?"

Keith's nose scrunched up, ears flicking once before his expression smoothed out. He nodded.

Lance nodded as well, not a hundred per cent sure why, but things still felt weird. Kind of. Really weird. Keith seemed to feel it as well, the tension clearly visible in his drawn up shoulders.

They each grabbed a bowl and a spork and began shoveling down their breakfast in awkward silence. There was a safe two feet of distance between them, and Lance was intently inspecting the wall across from him so he wouldn't be tempted to glance to his side. At Keith.

He took a drink from his water pouch. The loud slurping noise did not make things better.

"Where do you keep your—?" Lance gestured towards his pouch, trailing off as he wasn't quite sure what to call it.

Keith looked at him, in the unnerving way that made Lance want to fidget like a child who'd done something wrong. "Bathroom," the Galra muttered then.

"Oh. Okay," Lance said. "Very interesting."

This had to be the worst conversation of his life. Should he leave? Sing something again? At this point, he could hardly make things any _more_ awkward.

He was saved by the noise of steps coming down the hallway. A few moments later, Hunk peeked around the corner.

"Oh, good, you're both awake!" he greeted them, thankfully not picking up on the awkward tension lingering in the air. Nope, Hunk's smile was wider than ever. "I didn't want to wake you guys, but I was getting a little worried. It's almost noon! Good thing you got some sleep, though. You both looked like zombies."

"Thanks, Hunk. Very flattering," Lance muttered dryly.

"To be fair, you both look better now," Hunk chuckled. "And you're gonna need it. Allura has been planning out new training and missions all morning, and Pidge has been raving for the past three hours about how she can't believe that she's finally out of her room, only for you to disappear into thin air on her, Lance."

"Just as with any other hero, my presence is a privilege granted to only a select few," Lance hummed, swinging his hand out with a flourish, catching the way Keith's brows rose in disbelief.

He made a mental note to hug Hunk later, just to thank his friend for breaking the weird tension that had weighed down Keith and him.

"Say that to her face and I'm sure she'll get over missing you very quickly," Hunk muttered with a grin, not the least bit deterred when Lance stuck out his tongue at him. "But," he went on, expression a bit more serious now as his gaze settled on Keith, "she also can't wait to introduce Matt to Keith. Lance said you were cool with that? Do you think you'd be up for it, I mean, now-ish?"

Lance glanced over at Keith curiously. The Galra shrugged.

"So, uh, does that mean—?" Hunk asked, unsure.

Keith rolled his eyes, then nodded.

"Okay. Okay, that's good. I'll tell the others right away," Hunk offered eagerly, skipping away after gathering up their used bowls and sporks.

"You sure you're up for this?" Lance asked once Hunk was out of earshot.

Keith shrugged once more.

Lance swallowed down a sigh. It seemed that their closeness from the evening before was over. No more talking about feelings. Or touching. Or hugging. Or feeling hopeful that Keith was actually getting over things and finding his way back to himself now.

But Keith _was_ recovering.

Lance had developed this little game with himself, that he'd go through whenever it felt like they weren't really getting anywhere. When it felt like every step forward was accompanied by three steps back, and they were doomed to being stuck like this forever.

He just had to imagine how the current scenario would have played out on the first day after getting Keith back. On that day when Keith had been caught between murderous fury and complete apathy towards them.

And now, Lance was sitting next to Keith in the cell, after accidentally falling asleep and staying the night. Contrasted like that, it was obvious that they _were_ getting somewhere. That things weren't hopeless.

But they were still fragile, and Lance was all too aware of that.

"Hey, you want me to stay in here?" he asked, finally daring to look at Keith again instead of staring at the wall.

Keith looked a bit startled at being addressed so suddenly, ears quickly angling themselves towards Lance. Instead of answering, however, he just kept looking, visibly caught up thinking about something.

Was it the same things Lance was wondering about? That Matt showing up down here might lead to Keith freaking out, and that Lance really shouldn't be in the cell at that point? But on the other hand, being in here would make it easier for him to help Keith calm down if necessary, especially now that Keith seemed okay with being touched. And Lance's presence in the cell would also make it clear to Matt that despite their cautionary measures, Keith wasn't all that dangerous.

Now that he was thinking about it, Lance was more surprised that Matt was willing to meet Keith, than about the other way around. After all, they had freed Matt from the Galra only yesterday, and while Keith wasn't on Zarkon's side, he still looked just as Galra as the rest of them. That Matt was willing to meet a Galra so soon was incredibly impressive. Then again, the guy was related to Pidge. Lance really shouldn't be so surprised.

And besides, Keith was on their side, not the Galra's. Keith had been through hell because of them, just like Matt and Shiro had been. It wasn't Keith's fault that he looked like them now, like the very beings who had tortured him. Lance wondered what that was like, for Keith. To be turned into the very thing that had caused him so much suffering. It couldn't be nice.

Lance was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of feet walking down the hallway. A lot of feet. Which wasn't all that surprising, considering that Shiro and Pidge were basically attached to Matt's side for the time being.

But Keith still hadn't answered Lance's question.

Lance looked over at the Galra, unsure, but Keith didn't look particularly put off by his presence. Mostly, the Galra looked a little tense, ears angling left and right, twitching back and forth, never quite holding still.

Was Keith nervous about meeting Matt Holt?

Spontaneously, Lance decided that he couldn't bail on his friend in a moment like this. He would stay in the cell and support Keith, in case anything went wrong.

"Hey guys," Hunk greeted them when he came into view first. Lance waved back. Keith sat still as stone, unmoving except for the way his ears kept fidgeting.

Hunk waved the others closer, and with a slight sense of nervous anticipation Lance watched Shiro, Matt and Pidge come into view.

If he had later been asked to name one point in time when everything went terribly wrong—this would have been it.

The moment Matt caught sight of Keith, he scrambled back, suddenly white as a sheet. Shiro and Pidge were at his side immediately, obviously trying to be a comforting presence.

But Matt's wide, terrified eyes stayed fixed on Keith. He sucked in short, unsteady gulps of air, his shoulders trembling badly. Something haunted settled over his eyes, a nameless sort of fear.

"Get out of there," Matt gasped out, voice thin and shaking.

He was barely audible over Pidge's "What's wrong?" and Shiro's "Matt, calm down!" and Hunk's "Dude, it's only Keith, just—"

"No, no, no, no," Matt stuttered like a broken record, struggling against the careful hold Pidge had taken of his arm, "you have to get out of there, you have to, don't stay—"

It occurred to Lance, belatedly, that Matt was talking to _him_.

He glanced over at Keith, but Keith looked just as concerned and uncomfortable as anyone would be when someone else completely freaked out upon seeing them.

Lance got to his feet, slowly approaching the space glass with his hands held up. "I'm fine, Matt, that's just Keith. He's our friend—"

"You have to get out of there!" Matt called out once more, voice panicked and desperate. "He's dangerous—"

"Matt, I know Keith looks like a Galra, but I promise you he's not one of them. We told you about this before, remember?" Shiro's voice was soft and soothing, but Matt did not look the least bit reassured by it.

"He's not—" Matt choked out, getting increasingly frantic as Keith got to his feet behind Lance, "No! Get out! You have to get out, right now, he's dangerous, he killed _Dad_ —"

Matt's voice broke on the last word, and Lance didn't miss the way Pidge and Shiro stiffened at the mention.

"Matt, please," Shiro tried once more. "I know he looks Galra, but he's not like the others—"

"I'm not having a flashback or a breakdown!" Matt shouted at him, desperate eyes wandering over all of them in turn. "I _know_ that Galra! That one, _that one_ killed Dad!"

Everything went very quiet around them, as all struggles to help Matt calm down ceased at once. Shiro, Pidge and Hunk slowly turned to look at Keith. Lance found himself doing the same.

Keith's eyes were so wide that they almost looked like yellow circles in his face.

"Hey, Keith, it's okay," Lance murmured softly, taking a step towards him. It was obvious that Matt Holt wasn't the only one here who needed some support, and that was exactly what Lance was here for.

"No, you have to get away from him!" Matt called from behind him, but Lance ignored that.

Whether it was a nasty flashback or some other evil trick from the Galra, what Matt was accusing Keith of couldn't be true. And Lance would not see Keith drawing back into his shell because of the words of someone he barely even knew.

Very slowly, he reached out for Keith, frightened yellow eyes snapping down to the moving hand immediately. God, Keith looked almost as terrified as Matt at this point.

"No—Katie!" Matt continued to yell behind him. "Katie! Shiro! Please, you have to listen to me—he did it, I saw him, I was _there_ —that Galra ripped Dad apart without even blinking, he's just as bad as the rest of them, you have to believe me—you have to get your friend out of there, before he gets killed, too—"

"Stop insulting Keith!" Lance called out, turning around just enough to glare at Matt. "He would never kill someone innocent like that, he's—"

Although they had found Keith in a room full of torn up corpses. And not just Galra corpses, but other aliens, too, aliens who might have been prisoners as well—

But no. Keith _wouldn't_. Especially not other humans, who everyone knew were Pidge's family.

"He's not even trying to deny it!" Matt tried again. "Please, if you don't believe me, at least get out of there—"

"I won't, because Keith is _not_ dangerous!" Lance fired back. He knew he shouldn't be blaming Matt for a reaction like this after what he'd been through, but Lance still felt himself getting angry.

"Lance," Shiro spoke up, voice hard. "Come out of there for now. We'll settle this later—"

"There's nothing to settle! Keith wouldn't do something like that!" Lance called out. Was Shiro really considering that Matt might be right? He couldn't believe it.

"He killed Dad, Katie, please believe me, you have to get that idiot out of there," Matt muttered, looking like he was a few seconds away from breaking down completely, staring at Pidge beseechingly. Pidge looked torn.

"Dude, for the sake of everyone calming down, please come out of there for now?" Hunk suggested carefully.

Lance shook his head. "No! I'm making a point here, which I can't believe is even necessary—"

"Just do it out here!" Matt tried again, receiving a withering glare from Lance in turn. "Just—I saw him tear apart Dad and others like it meant _nothing_ to him, you can't stay in there—"

"I'm not leaving—" Lance shouted back.

A loud growl rose from behind him.

Lance swallowed, then followed the collective attention to turn around and face Keith.

The Galra's claws were flexed, sharp teeth bared in a snarl. His yellow eyes were wild, unfocused and narrowed into angry slits, glaring at—Lance?

"Keith?" Lance asked, hesitantly raising his hands. "Keith, it's okay, I believe in y—"

Another growl cut him off, sounding even more furious that the last one.

"Keith, buddy, hey," Lance murmured, forcing his voice to be as soft and calm as possible. Keith looked like he was about to lose it. If Keith lost it now that would be terrible. Lance couldn't let that happen. "It's okay," he tried, hoping Keith wouldn't see how nervous he really felt, "it's fine, you know I trust you—"

The Galra snarled even louder. Lance took a small step forward, pulling a small smile to his lips.

"No, don't—" Matt shouted from behind him, both Shiro and Hunk calling out his name in worry.

But Lance knew what he was doing. He knew what he could do to help. And most importantly, he believed in Keith—he knew Keith wouldn't consciously hurt him. Lance just had to get _through_ to the stubborn bastard.

Lance took another step forward, slowly reaching out for Keith's hand. The Galra's expression was caught somewhere between fury and terror, but his yellow eyes were taking in Lance's movement. Lance's smile grew a bit wider, more genuine.

"That's it. Everything's okay. We can do this together, Keith. You know you can trust me—"

His fingers brushed against Keith's wrist, the touch so gentle it was barely there.

Keith's eyes snapped wide open.

Before Lance knew what was happening, he was shoved back, a furious, animalistic howl tearing through the air. He was stumbling, arms coming up on autopilot as something moved towards his face with full speed, and he barely managed to push himself out of the way of purple claws aiming for his throat.

"Keith, no!" he called out, barely hearing himself over the rush of blood in his ears and various other voices that were suddenly shouting. Cold dread rushed through his veins, slowing him down.

Why was this happening, everything had been going so well—

Another swipe of purple claws, and Lance barely felt himself stumbling back. He knew he was too off-balance to dodge the next attack when it came, straight for his jugular and accompanied by the terrifying growl of the Galra. But before those sharp claws could connect, he was suddenly pulled back, the Galra disappearing from sight as something shoved itself in front of him, huge and yellow and—

Hunk.

Lance's thoughts were racing too fast to settle on any one thing, he had to react, he had to _do_ something—

He felt himself being pushed back, away from Keith, but then Hunk was crying out in pain, and Lance's body still felt like it was filled with static. He had to do something, why wasn't he doing anything—

A metallic clang. Another growl, livid beyond words.

"Lance!" someone called, and a moment later Lance's brain connected the voice to Shiro—Shiro was good, Shiro was their leader, he should probably do what Shiro was saying—"Get Hunk out of here!"

Lance wrapped his arms around the huge form of his friend and shuffled them backwards out of the cell. Hunk's back felt wet.

There was Shiro's voice still, but it didn't seem to be talking to him any longer, so Lance didn't put any effort into deciphering words.

There were sounds of fighting, the ugly screech of claws against metal, but in his current position Lance still couldn't look past Hunk to see what was happening.

Another loud bang.

Hurried steps, then Shiro came out of the cell, jammed his hand against the scanning pad and everything sealed closed.

Hunk groaned where he was still leaning against Lance heavily, sounding pained.

Lance pulled back his arm to take a look at it. There was red clinging to it, wet and sticky and ugly.

Hunk was bleeding. Hunk was _injured_ , oh God, no—but why? How could Hunk have gotten hurt like this?

Without his permission, Lance's body turned, eyes looking into the cell. There was the crumpled body of a Galra on the floor. Unmoving and unconscious.

Had Shiro done that to Keith?

"Lance!" Shiro's voice, again. Lance tore his gaze away from the red on his hand, from the Galra, to look at their leader. "I'll take Hunk to the healing pods. Get Allura and Coran, we'll meet up there. Pidge, take care of Matt and head there, too."

Shiro's voice was firm and steady. Shiro's face was empty. As if he would pass out any second or start crying.

Lance's body moved numbly, letting go of Hunk so Shiro could sling one of Hunk's arms over his shoulder and steady him. Lance's gaze got caught on his sticky hand again, on the red that was slowly seeping further up the sleeve of his jacket.

"Lance." Shiro's voice. Lance looked up at pained dark eyes. "Allura and Coran. Bring them to the med bay."

Lance's head took over the job of nodding.

His legs began moving, somehow, carrying him away from the cell.

 

 

*****

 

 

By the time he'd told Coran to go to the med bay, been ushered by Coran into washing his hands clean, then found Allura and went there with her, Lance's head was almost back in working order. Except for the panic and confusion and bone-deep terror, of course.

When he stepped into the med bay behind Allura, his eyes immediately caught sight of Hunk's still form in the healing pod.

Lance told himself that Hunk would be alright and kept moving. Shiro, Pidge, Matt and Coran were already waiting.

"What happened?" Allura asked, as Lance hadn't really been in a state to explain things to her on the way.

Shiro swallowed before answering. "Matt claims that Keith killed Sam Holt. Lance was in the cell at the time, so Hunk went in to get him out and got hurt. I had to knock Keith out, but he's safely locked away for now. Hunk is—it's just a flesh wound on his back. He should be out in three, maybe four hours."

"What was Lance doing in the cell?" Coran demanded to know, a hard edge to his voice.

Lance bristled at that. "I was talking to Keith! And everything was fine until Matt came along and started yelling at him!"

"I didn't—I was trying to get you out of there before he attacked you! He killed my _dad_!" Despite still being pale and exhausted, Matt looked about ready to throw a punch.

Well, if he wanted a fight, Lance would give him one. "I told you already—"

"Guys, stop it!" Shiro's booming voice got both of them to quiet down, Lance shrinking under their leader's stern gaze. "Since Haggar's illusions were involved in this, at least on Keith's end, we have no way of knowing what really happened. We can't figure this out right now and we definitely shouldn't do it when everyone's emotions are so charged up."

"I never saw any of those illusions!" Matt defended himself. "I know what happened! How can you not believe me, Shiro? Katie?"

Pidge bit down on her lower lip, looking conflicted. "I—I have to agree with Shiro. We can't know what really happened, and fighting about it now won't help. It's possible that what you saw was an illusion and you didn't notice, or that all of this is just a ploy—"

"You really don't believe me, do you?" Matt's voice cracked a little, a devastated expression on his face. Lance would have felt sorry for him, if the guy wasn't trying to convince them that Keith was evil.

"Matt, that is not what we're saying. We just need some more information first—" Shiro's attempt at calming things down was met with a scoff from Matt.

"Regardless of what happened with your father," Coran interrupted, catching everyone's attention, "I think we all have to agree that Keith is clearly still dangerous. Lance shouldn't have been in that cell."

Lance could practically feel his jaw drop. He hadn't expected Coran to stab him in the back like that—although, Coran had been suspicious of Keith right from the start—maybe Lance should have seen this coming. Still, he caught himself quickly enough to argue back. "I told you already, it was fine until Matt showed up! And Shiro and Hunk went into his cell, too, and nothing ever happened—"

"Something happened this time!" Coran yelled, gesturing towards the one occupied healing pod. "Hunk got injured! And from what I heard, it could have been a lot worse if he and Shiro hadn't happened to be around. You could be dead, Lance!"

"Keith would never hurt any of us on purpose!" Lance called out, feeling anger rising up inside of him. How could Coran think so badly of Keith?

"On purpose or not, he still did it, and it might happen again! That is what matters right now!" Coran argued, looking just as upset as Lance felt. "I just want to make sure that none of you end up hurt!"

"Keith wouldn't—"

"He just did!" Matt cut Lance off, taking a step forward to glare at him. "Or do you want to deny that? Hunk got hurt because you were too stubborn to get out of that cell in time!"

"That's not—" Lance trailed off, the _what happened_ getting stuck in his throat. That _was_ what had happened, wasn't it? He had been so sure that he could get through to Keith and calm him down, but instead he'd made everything worse—and Hunk had paid the price for Lance's mistake. If anything, Hunk's injury was Lance's fault, not Keith's. "Things went wrong," he muttered sullenly. "But you can't blame only Keith for that."

"That is exactly what I'm doing," Coran growled, and Lance felt his chest grow cold. "Everyone might have had a hand in how things went down, but Keith was the one who injured a fellow paladin. You can't ignore that fact simply because you don't like it! Keith was willing to kill you from the second you found him, and you—all of you—told yourselves that it would be temporary, that the _real Keith_ would never act that way, that it didn't matter. I disagreed, but knowing that none of you would listen to me, I never said anything. Well, not anymore! Hunk got hurt because all of you didn't want to accept that the Keith you knew before is gone, and _this_ Keith very much can and will kill you. We can't let something like this happen again! We can't let history repeat itself like that."

"History—Coran, what are you talking about?" Shiro asked, looking concerned.

"I really don't think we should bring this up now," Allura spoke up quickly, giving Coran a beseeching look.

But Coran would have none of it. "Princess, I know we agreed not to tell them about the previous paladins so they'd be able to forge their own path, but we can't ignore the risk he poses any longer. Now that he's Galra, Keith could—"

"What, so that is what this is about? You just hate Galra and that's why you're against Keith?" Lance yelled out, his anger taking hold, drowning out the uncomfortable guilt about what had happened.

Coran didn't back down from the accusation. "I don't hate the Galra any more than anyone else reasonably would. But they're optimized warriors! Do you really think that the change they go through encourages mercy or patience in them? They're made into perfect fighters and killers, and that is what they do!"

"Lumping them all together like that seems a little extreme," Pidge piped up, but didn't get much attention.

"It's no coincidence that this is happening now. But I won't let my warnings be ignored again, even if you dislike what I'm saying," Coran went on, resolve edged into his expression.

"Princess, what is he talking about?" Shiro asked, but Allura shook her head.

Coran's gaze, however, latched onto Shiro immediately, his voice rising with each word he spoke. "I'm talking about how, if Alfor had listened to me back then instead of blindly believing in his friends, he might have been able to stop Zarkon! The previous paladins worked alongside each other for decades, and I don't think it's a coincidence that only after two of them turned into Galra, did those exact two begin to murder their fellow paladins!"

"I don't care what the paladins before us did, this is Keith we're talking about!" Lance protested, ignoring Pidge's mumbled "I thought Sha῾ra was one of the good guys" in the background, getting close enough to stab his finger into Coran's chest. "It doesn't matter what happened before us," he argued, stepping in even closer when Coran didn't move back. "We all know that Keith went through some harsh shit and that he's still recovering! What do you want us to do, huh? Eject him out into space and get a new red paladin?"

"No one is talking about that, Lance," Shiro cut in, a firm hand on Lance's shoulder pulling him back. Lance was still fuming, but let it happen. "Allura," Shiro went on then, turning towards the princess, "can you tell us what happened with the previous paladins? We can't make decisions if we don't have all the facts."

Allura did not look too happy. An uncomfortable silence stretched on as she shifted, arms crossed and lips pursed. Lance felt like there was quite a bit of staring going on between her, Shiro and Coran.

"Fine," she sighed eventually, eyes settling on the ground. "Coran is not wrong. Sha῾ra and Zarkon both killed other paladins. Although Sha῾ra later deeply regretted what she did—"

"Regret or not, Y'orr was still dead," Coran pressed on, face tight. "And the same applies here—maybe Keith will recover and later regret that he injured you, but that doesn't mean we should be reckless now and let it happen. We all need to acknowledge that he is dangerous!"

"He was perfectly fine until Matt came along and upset him!" Lance complained before Shiro could stop him.

Matt joined back in with indignance, shouting "How often do I have to tell you—" just as Pidge quietly piped up, "Can't we just agree for now that we should—"

" _Enough_!"

Shiro's booming voice was enough to quiet all of them down and draw their eyes to him. The black paladin drew in a deep breath. "We're all to blame for what happened earlier—we should have been more careful. I'm sure that in a calmer state of mind, Keith wouldn't have hurt Hunk. Nevertheless, Coran is right."

Lance opened his mouth to protest, but a withering glare from Shiro shut him up before he could get started.

"We all know that Keith isn't really in control of himself at the moment. And we can't know for sure that what Matt has told us doesn't have some truth to it. So for now, no one will go into Keith's cell until this is all sorted out." Shiro's eyes stayed firmly settled on Lance at the order. "I won't see anyone else getting hurt."

Coran nodded to that, pleased. Or maybe more relieved, but Lance didn't care at the moment.

"Shiro, you have to know that Keith would never—" he tried, but Shiro shook his head, a sad look in his eyes.

"I know, Lance. Believe me, I don't like doing this." He sighed, stepping closer to squeeze Lance's shoulder. "But—Hunk already got hurt, and we can't let something like this happen again. I'm sure that Keith would want the same. Once he's back in his right mind, he won't like knowing that he hurt some of us."

Lance pressed his lips together tightly. His eyes felt uncomfortably wet. It didn't feel right, to decide that Keith was dangerous.

But eventually, he gave in under Shiro's beseeching look.

His memory was a bit blurry—how Shiro had headed into the cell when Keith had attacked, how Shiro had fought Keith and knocked him out.

A part of Lance knew that this couldn't be easy for Shiro, either. That it had to be hard, that Shiro disliked this as much as him, that Shiro was just trying to protect all of them as well as he could—Keith included. However, a part of him also wished that Hunk were awake. Hunk would be on his side. On _Keith's_ side. With Hunk awake, this decision that Keith was too dangerous to go near wouldn't have been accepted.

A part of him also knew that it was his and Keith's fault that Hunk was in the healing pod right now.

He swallowed against the tight feeling in his throat, against the wetness gathering in his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Shiro approached Allura, probably to talk. How Pidge and Matt were whispering to each other in a far corner of the room, both clearly agitated. How Coran was stepping closer to him, a look of worry on his usually so cheerful face.

Lance ignored all of that and stomped out of the room.

 

 

*****

 

 

What he wanted to do was to ignore everyone, until they agreed that they were wrong and Lance was right. That Keith wasn't dangerous, that he was upset and scared and needed their _help_ —not for them to push him away.

But it seemed that he'd used up all of his luck over the past few weeks, and now the cosmic forces of fate only had misfortune in store for him.

He'd spent about half an hour after the argument in his room, muttering to himself angrily and thinking about ways to convince the others that they were all idiots, when the alarm of the Castle began blaring.

No more ignoring the others, then.

He hastily pulled on his suit and sprinted to Blue's hangar while Allura's voice yelled at them over the comms, informing everyone that they were being attacked by the Galra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Wow, this last chapter was so nice and hopeful! It would be a shame if anything... were to happen to that...... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> What an unexpected turn of events, amirite? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> So, yeah, everything is bad now and we're about to crash head-first into the "mid-season finale" of this fic. "Mid-season" in this context is a bold-faced lie btw, because we are nowhere near halfway done. But y'know, Dramatic Events are approaching. That means very long chapters, so this time I won't even pretend that the next update won't take long. It will take forever. My bad, apologies in advance. If you want to scream at me about this fic, you can always do that at my [tumblr](http://onyx-stars.tumblr.com/).  
> Unfortunately, I have been tempted into working on two other Voltron fics. You might see them one of these days. For now let's hope that I won't be distracted from Incandescence too much :')
> 
> See you all in approximately 100 years with the next update! :'D


	14. I curse the name, the one behind it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lance, _no_!" 
> 
> The raw desperation in Keith's voice made Lance freeze up instantly. Slowly, he turned back towards the Galra. Keith's eyes were wide with fear, and he was pressing against the space glass—as if he wanted to get out and follow Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from '[Discord](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOkdSj8Iz0I)' by The Living Tombstone and the song is exactly as ominous as it should be for this chapter ;) Beware, it is also very catchy.
> 
> Just to prevent any more confusion, I'd like to mention that so far **{{{ }}}** has always signified flashbacks and that hasn't changed.
> 
> In case you're wondering why this chapter is out already, you can thank the amazing [gappylulu](https://gappylulu.tumblr.com/) who thought this might cheer up the people who had a bad April Fool's and/or Easter. Thanks to her, for the past two days we have spent all of our free time on getting this baby ready. And now here we are :D  
> As I've mentioned before, this is Part One to a two-part mid-season finale. Originally, chapter 14 and 15 were supposed to be one chapter, but it got wayyy too long. Now you get a beautiful cliffhanger at the end ;) Chapter 15 should follow in 2-3 weeks, when gappylulu is done with exams. Such is life, my dears. If it's any consolation to you, according to her things are even _worse_ at the end of chapter 15 than they are at the end of this one...  
>  Anyway, have fun reading! :D If you want to make us really, really happy, leave a comment and tell us what you think will happen next ;)

**{{{**

Keith was almost disappointed in himself for raising his head when the door burst open, light spilling into his dark cell. There was still an illusion of Pidge in the room, looking at him with desperate eyes. Did the Galra not even want him to fall for their lies anymore?

"He's here!" Lance's voice shouted, as the image of Pidge faded away. "Guys, I found him!"

There were blasting noises sounding from the hallway. The illusion of Lance ran up to Keith, barely more than a shadowed silhouette against the bright light from outside. The light would disappear once Lance did—just like it did every time.

"Keith! _Keith_!"

Illusions of Lance were always so loud and insistent—another thing Keith had given away. He was awful at protecting his team.

The coarse fabric of gloves settled on Keith's face as the fake Lance knelt before him, the cut on Keith's cheek stinging at the contact. Whoever was creating these illusions was getting better at them, Keith had to give them that. 

"Keith!" Fake Lance repeated, gently shaking Keith's shoulder. "Look at me! Are you alright?" 

Keith sighed. He wondered how long this one would take to fade away. It was a pity the real Lance had never shown him this much affection.

"Lance!" Shiro's voice called from the door. There was the sound of his boots stepping inside, occasionally drowned out by the booming sound of Hunk's blaster firing off in the distance. Shiro's heavy steps came closer as the image of the black paladin edged into Keith's field of view. "Keith," Shiro mumbled, voice a little rough. Keith wasn't sure which one of his memories the Galra had stolen that tone from.

"Shiro, something's wrong with him," fake Lance whined, sounding distressed and close to crying. "He won't even look at me."

"Don't worry, we'll get him out of here," Shiro's calm, gentle leader voice reassured him. The cybernetic arm glowed, then sliced right through the chains holding Keith's arms up.

Keith forgot how to breathe for a moment.

That was new.

But no, he couldn't fall for this. It was just another illusion.

The blasting noises outside stopped as an image of Hunk rushed into the room as well. "Keith! Oh my god!"

They should stop using his name so excessively. Had the team ever used his name that much?

Things were blurring before Keith's eyes.

His usual miniscule ration of food and water should have arrived a while ago. If the Galra wanted to keep up the illusion, they would probably skip that. _We won't bring you food, because everyone got knocked out when your friends came to save you._ Ha ha. Good one. Keith was sarcastically laughing inside.

His headache intensified, along with another wave of dizziness. It was lacking the usual digging sensation, so maybe it was just caused by dehydration this time.

Keith slumped forward, surprised when he fell all the way to the ground. No chains holding up his arms. Right. They were _really_ getting into it this time.

The panicked voices of Lance, Hunk, and Shiro rose up around him, but Keith didn't bother to make out their words. They weren't real anyway. Once Keith regained consciousness, they would be gone just like all the other times, and Keith would sit in his dark cell, arms chained up, alone. Maybe even in the healing pod, if the dehydration was too bad. That would be a ridiculous reason for the fifth trip, so simple after all those dramatic injuries.

**}}}**

 

******

 

The fight against the Galra was a complete disaster.

With Hunk still in the healing pod they only had three Lions to fight, and the number of Galra ships and speeders attacking the Castle was overwhelming.

There had already been a few close calls. They were all running on fumes after fighting for what felt like forever, and they had barely taken out a quarter of the enemy ships. As if that wasn't bad enough already, the particle barrier of the Castle was taking way too many hits and was just about to fizzle out.

Stupid particle barrier.

"We can't stay here any longer, or the barrier will go down and the Castle will be destroyed!" Allura gasped over the comms, sounding strained.

"What do we do then?" Lance asked, weaving through shots aimed at him from about a dozen different ships. He pulled Blue down into a nose-dive at the last possible moment to avoid being hit. They cut a close corner, then fired back at their pursuers. An exhausted smile spread over Lance's face as half the ships exploded. A few seconds later, they were replaced by more, the numbers seemingly never dwindling. Lance's smile slipped.

"I'll open a wormhole," Allura said. "Come close to the Castle. If we're quick about this, not many will be able to follow."

"What about those who do?" Pidge asked. Lance wasn't quite sure where she was at the moment. He had lost sight of the Green Lion almost as soon as they had headed out to face the Galra fleet. Fleets? Had to be more than one, with how many ships there were.

"We'll take those out, then jump again to make sure no one follows us," Allura explained.

"But princess, that will require a lot of energy from you," Coran quickly protested. Lance dared a quick glance at the screen that showed the inside of the Castle—Allura facing Coran with her usual determination, Matt standing in the background and trying to be helpful—before he had to focus his attention back on the fight. A stray shot grazed Blue's side and he felt her displeased grumble in his mind. He sent her a quick mental apology for getting distracted.

"If we don't leave soon, we will be overrun. We can't let that happen," Allura insisted. Going by Coran's defeated sigh, he knew that she was right.

None of them could keep this up for much longer.

"Everyone, back to the Castle," Shiro ordered—as if it wasn't obvious—and Lance pulled Blue around all too happily.

The blue barrier around the Castle was easily visible against the dark background of the galaxy and the metallic gray of the Galra ships. A few moments later, however, that exact blue flickered and died away.

"The barrier just went down!" Coran yelped, and Lance sped up his flight. They had to leave, and soon, before the Castle got too damaged to wormhole away.

Lance approached as fast as he could while still avoiding enemy fire, catching sight of the Green Lion which was just a bit closer to the Castle than he was. It still seemed too far away, especially now that the Galra ships were increasingly focusing their blasters on the unguarded Castle.

"I've opened the Black Lion's hangar," Allura called, "as soon as all three of you are inside, we'll leave—"

She was cut off by the loud blaring of alarms, a sound that Lance quickly recognized as coming from the Castle.

"What's happening?" Shiro asked, clearly worried, and a moment later Lance caught sight of the Black Lion, heading into the opened hangar right after the green one.

"The outer hull of the Castle has been breached," Coran exclaimed, "must have been a lucky shot, but don't worry! We'll seal off the area, it won't be a problem for the duration of the fight—"

Lance headed for the open hangar at full speed, not slowing down until he was hurtling inside, the white of the Castle walls replacing the black of space. "I'm here," he called out.

"Everyone, hold on," Allura's shouted, and then a tremor shook through Lance's whole body.

Everything was flying around, Blue getting thrown against the walls twice before she hit the ground hard. Lance's head was swimming. The alarms were still blaring, the sound layering over itself in an ugly cacophony as it came from both the Castle itself and from Lance's comms.

A moment later, the world stood still again.

"We made it," Allura announced, sounding exhausted but no less firm, "now back out with you! We need to finish off the ships that followed us and jump again before the rest of them can lock onto our position."

Lance took a firmer hold of his controls and headed back out. Someone finally shut off the alarm.

Things went smoothly after that.

 

*****

 

"How could they find us again so soon?" Shiro asked after they had escaped via wormhole a second time, because Shiro was a fucking loser and apparently couldn't _wait_ to get started on the issue that everyone would blame Keith for.

Lance swallowed down a sigh. They hadn't even climbed out of their Lions yet! He was exhausted. Give a guy some rest.

"Is it possible that they were able to reactivate the collar and find Keith?" Coran asked. Lance rolled his eyes. Yup, here they were—blaming everything on Keith again.

"They shouldn't be able to, Hunk and I took care of that," Pidge's voice crackled through the comms, accompanied by the scuffling sound of her climbing out of her Lion in the background.

Despite how wrung out he felt, Lance got to his feet to do the same. He couldn't just laze around in Blue while everyone else was still busy.

"We can figure that out later. Shouldn't we make sure to repair the Castle first?"

Internally, Lance sighed. Trust Shiro to bring up the topic of even more work.

Lance wanted to go back to ignoring him already. "Dude, let us at least get out of our armor before you assign us even more stuff to do. Geez," he complained, pulling a face that no one could see. He let himself drop the short distance from Blue's paw to the ground before slowly trudging back to his room.

"Shiro is right, we should fix the breach as soon as possible. As far as my scans are showing, the Castle's walls have been pierced all the way through. It's only the lower levels and they're sealed off for now, but that's not a permanent solution and we shouldn't risk all of us and our air being sucked out into the endless vacuum of space," Coran muttered, apparently just as eager as Shiro to make them work even more. These two really weren't endearing themselves to Lance today. "Shiro, you can go and bring the materials needed for the repairs. Lance and I will check out the damage in person."

There, more work. Assholes. Not to mention that Lance didn't want to spend one-on-one time with Coran at all right now. Their earlier argument was still too fresh in his mind—Coran's angry words convincing the others that Keith was dangerous, instead of needing their help.

Still, Lance grunted in a vague imitation of agreement. He would just ignore Coran, interspersed with the occasional glare while working. He only listened with half an ear as everyone else made plans. Allura was going to rest, tired after having to open two wormholes so quickly after each other, and Pidge volunteered to look into how the Galra might have found them, with some support from Matt. Lance didn't say anything, but he was pretty sure that Pidge just wanted to make sure that her brother was okay after having to face the Galra again, so soon after being rescued. It wasn't any of Lance's business what they were up to. He was still angry at Matt, anyway.

The door to his room opened with its usual _swish_ and Lance sent his bed a wishful glance. As soon as he'd checked out the damage on the Castle with Coran, he would definitely take a long, relaxing nap—

Just then, his short daydream was interrupted by a strange noise.

Lance blinked, looking around his room in confusion. It hadn't sounded as if the noise had come from his helmet, so it had to come from somewhere around—there it was again. A strange _beep_ , just about a second long.

Where the hell did that come from? Lance narrowed his eyes, visually scanning all of his belongings suspiciously.

The realization hit him like a hammer. The beeper!

Just when everything was going to shit, Keith was finally using the stupid beeper Pidge had built for him!

With Hunk still in the pod, Lance was the only one who got messaged—but Lance had been outside, battling the Galra for the past hour. Just how long had Keith been waiting for him to show up by now?

He dove forward, hurriedly digging through his clothes to pull the slim device from the pocket of his jacket. He had started putting it there out of habit, even though Keith had never used it for anything.

Now, he had—and there were already a shit ton of notifications blinking up at him from the screen of the device.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Just as he was cursing internally, the device beeped again. Lance almost dropped it, scrambling to catch it before it hit the ground, then ran out of his room at breakneck speed. He had to get to Keith's cell, _now_.

He opened his comm line, gasping out "I have to check on Keith, I'll be with you later, Coran", and turned his comms off before Coran had any chance to voice his protest—he wouldn't approve of Lance seeing Keith anyway. Fuck him.

There was no way Lance wouldn't go and see Keith now. Not when Keith was finally making the effort of calling for them.

As he ran, Lance couldn't help but worry what the reason might be. Was it because Keith had woken up in his cell, knocked out and with Hunk's blood on his hands? Was it because he wanted to defend himself from Matt's accusations of killing Sam Holt? Or was Keith just freaked out from the alarm blaring through the Castle?

Lance quickly discarded that last idea. Alarms weren't a rare thing to hear, it had happened often enough. The other options, however...

His stomach churned with worry, and he slowed down just before turning into the hallway with Keith's cell, out of breath. Pidge's treacherous device beeped again where he was clutching it in his hand—his gloved hand, and fuck, he was still wearing his armor. The armor that had caused Keith to freak out the last time Lance had shown up in it, he knew that, why hadn't he thought of changing clothes first before coming here, fuck—

Another noise cut Lance off, and this time it wasn't a _beep_.

It was the sound of someone banging against the space glass.

Lance had done it out of frustration often enough to know exactly what it sounded like, and he was hearing it now, someone banging, again and again—Keith.

Keith was banging against the space glass and using the beeper. What the actual hell was going on all of a sudden?

Lance took a shuddering breath and pulled off his helmet, placing it down on the ground. Armor or not, he couldn't leave now just to change clothes. He had to do it like this, somehow.

"Keith!" he called out, wincing at how unsteady his voice sounded.

The banging stopped. Then, even shakier than Lance's voice had sounded, came a hesitant "Lance?"

Lance felt hot and cold all at once, a shiver running down his spine. "Yeah," he wheezed out, voice thin. "It's—It's me, I'm here."

The banging started up again. "Lance!" Keith called out, sounding desperate and a little relieved at the same time. More banging.

A very unhelpful part of Lance's brain pointed out that Keith had to be standing right up against the space glass in order to hit it. That Keith was banging against the thing keeping him trapped, keeping him prisoner, that he was calling out for Lance—and wasn't this exactly how Lance had imagined saving Keith from the Galra, all those weeks ago?

Now, it wasn't the Galra keeping him locked in a cell. It was _them_.

And Keith was still calling out for Lance.

"Keith, I—" He began, then stopped, having to take a breath to calm himself down. Too much was happening all of a sudden. He wasn't prepared to deal with this. It couldn't have been more than two hours since Keith had clawed Hunk's shoulder open. Just last night they had _hugged_ — Lance willed down the shaking in his fingers, in his voice. He could sort through this mess of emotions later. Right now, he had to focus on Keith. "I'm wearing my armor," he called out, "but I've taken off the helmet. Can I come closer without you getting upset?"

A moment of silence. An unsteady exhale from the cell. "Okay," came the soft reply.

"Good," Lance breathed. He took an uncertain step forward, eyes immediately going towards Keith's cell. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in the sight.

Red smudges on the space glass caught his attention before he could focus on Keith, standing there, both hands resting against the barrier.

Only when he stepped closer could Lance see that the blood on Keith's fingers wasn't completely dry, that it wasn't all the same rusty color—some of it had a darker, purplish hue to it. The same color was mirrored in the thin scratches now crisscrossing all over Keith's throat, above and below the collar, and with a sudden jolt Lance realized that it wasn't just Hunk's blood that was smeared on the space glass.

He stumbled forward, gasping out "You're hurt!" before he could think about it, taking in the scratches, the haunted look in Keith's yellow eyes.

Keith flinched when he came closer, and Lance guiltily took a step back. He could see how Keith's gaze kept straying to his armor, the obvious unease in Keith's face, stance, and shoulders. Once more Lance regretted not changing his clothes, but it was too late for that now.

"Keith, we talked about this, yeah?" he tried, holding out his hands, palms up, hoping that it would help calm Keith down. At least he had de-materialized his bayard and left the helmet. "I'm still the same person, armor or not."

Keith hesitated, then gave a small nod.

Lance felt a bit of tension draining out of him. So far, so good. "Okay," he murmured softly. "Tell me what's wrong? You're hurt."

And how could Keith have gotten hurt inside the cell? There was nothing dangerous around, except for Keith himself.

The answer to how this had happened was quite obvious, really. Lance just didn't want to believe it—maybe it was something else. Maybe he wasn't seeing the full picture here.

"Lance," Keith choked out, stepping forward and plastering both forearms against the space glass. There was something desperate in the way he said Lance's name, something that was terrified and close to breaking down. Something that, together with the suspicious sheen in Keith's eyes and the hitched breathing, tugged painfully at Lance's heart, threatening to crack it open.

"Yeah," Lance assured Keith softly as he slowly stepped forward. "It's me, alright, buddy? Tell me what happened?"

Keith shook his head. His eyes were wide, scared. The way his ears were trembling was hard to ignore. The hitched little breaths were sounding wetter and wetter. Sharp teeth bit down on trembling purple lips, so strong that Lance worried Keith would bite himself bloody. "Can—" Keith choked out, then cut off, whimpering. He closed his eyes, breathed, then looked back up at Lance. "Come inside?"

Lance sucked in a sharp breath. _Great_. Fucking great. The one thing he wasn't supposed to do.

He moved—a step back, a step forward—unable to make sense of the sudden panic rising up in his chest.

He shouldn't. Shiro had just decided that no one should go inside the cell. Hunk had gotten hurt, and it had been Lance's fault, because he'd been too reckless, too stubborn—

But Keith wasn't dangerous. Keith was obviously in control right now. And it had helped Keith before, having physical contact. How could Lance turn away when Keith was asking him for help—

"Okay," he murmured, feeling oddly numb and at the same time electrified. Keith's ears perked up a bit, still trembling. Lance nodded to himself. This was the right choice, he had to help Keith.

He stepped forward, placing his hand on the scanning panel. It scanned. The small control light lit up—not blue. Red. Why was it red? Why wasn't it working?

Lance placed his hand on the panel a second time, only to be met with the same red light. Panic rose up inside of him, tight like a vice around his chest as his breath rushed out too fast.

Why couldn't he unlock the cell?

He gave up his efforts when he heard Keith stepping back, the Galra's expression caught somewhere between nameless fear and fury.

"No, no, wait!" Lance scrambled forward, only to stop short when Keith hissed at him viciously. He raised his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, this should work—I'm, the others decided that we shouldn't go into your cell for a while, because Hunk got hurt, they must have disabled the opening mechanism or at least blocked me. I don't—"

Keith's yellow eyes narrowed at him in distrust. Or maybe consideration? But then it looked more pained than anything else. Fluffy purple ears sank down against Keith's mullet. "I—hurt Hunk?"

It came out unsure, like a question. Lance didn't know if he should nod or not. He settled on words. "It wasn't your fault. Matt yelled at you and I kept pushing, getting closer—"

"I hurt Hunk," Keith muttered, voice barely above a whisper. His yellow eyes were wide as they settled on his hands, crusted with red blood. "I hurt Hunk."

"Don't freak out on me, please?" Lance pleaded, trying to stop Keith's panicked whispering. This situation was bad enough already, it didn't have to get any worse.

Keith stared at his hands, unmoving except for the way he was still shaking. Moments dragged by endlessly until he sucked in a sharp breath, eyes settling on Lance once again with a haunted sort of determination shining in them. "You're real?" Keith asked, voice thin but demanding.

Dumbfounded, Lance stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Uh, yeah. I'm real."

"Prove it," Keith hissed, ears flicking with agitation.

How Keith could switch between seemingly unrelated topics so quickly was still beyond Lance, but as long as Keith didn't have a breakdown right now, he would take it. He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment as he pulled his glove back on.

"Okay, so," he began, shifting a little under Keith's intense stare, "I still have those scratches on my side from last night—we fell asleep in your cell, remember? You had a nightmare and when you tensed up, you scratched my side. A little! Not much. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to freak out."

Keith stared at him in eerie silence.

Lance shifted again, swallowing uneasily. "Uh, I can tell you the glitter story again? People leave you, but body glitter won't? Ring any bells? I can take off the armor, show you the scratches. Maybe I'll find some glitter, too. I mean, if you're confident you won't lose it when I suddenly start stripping." He chuckled weakly.

At this rate, Keith's stare was going to burn a hole through him. But then, slowly, Keith nodded.

Lance let out a breath of relief. "Okay, okay, good." That was good. Keith's breakdown was no longer imminent. But—Lance still couldn't open the cell, and someone had to take a look at Keith's injuries, dangerous Galra or not. Coran would definitely disagree with that, but not Shiro. Shiro cared about Keith, maybe even more than Lance did. Lance nodded to himself. Yes, that was a plan. "So, you just stay here—no freaking out—while I go and get Shiro, so we can open that cell and patch you up. Okay?" He turned to run off, but after only two steps he was stopped.

"Lance, _no_!"

The raw desperation in Keith's voice made Lance freeze up instantly. Slowly, he turned back towards the Galra. Keith's eyes were wide with fear, and he was pressing against the space glass—as if he wanted to get out and follow Lance.

Keith had never really tried to leave the cell before. Something was still so strange about all of this.

Lance shook his head. This was all too much. He could still see the blood smeared against the space glass and caked onto Keith's hands—some of it Keith's own, some of it Hunk's. Not to mention that Keith had used the beeper for the first time and was still obviously panicking and Lance didn't know what to _do_. Shiro would know what to do. Shiro knew Keith better than anyone, as much as it stung at times.

Lance took another step back. "I won't be long, okay? I just have to get Shiro."

He didn't understand why Keith started frantically shaking his head. "Don't leave," Keith pleaded, yellow eyes shining wetly.

God, he looked so terrified. Although Lance knew that, technically, they were perfectly safe on the Castle ship, it was still painful to watch.

"Please," Keith went on, sounding close to tears. His obvious desperation sent another jab to Lance's heart. "I don't need Shiro here, I—I need you. Please, don't leave me here."

Lance could feel something inside of himself crumble. He couldn't do this. He couldn't walk away from Keith now, not with Keith in this state. Not when he was asking, no, _begging_ Lance not to leave him, alone and terrified and locked up in this cell that _they_ had put him in.

It didn't hurt that there was a smug little voice in the back of Lance's head, pointing out that Keith didn't want amazing, gorgeous, strong, perfect Shiro here—he wanted Lance. Keith wanted _Lance_ to stay with him.

And Lance was quite horrible at saying _no_ to Keith.

"Okay," he agreed, breath hitching in his chest at the way Keith instantly relaxed from just that one word, no longer looking quite as terrified. "I'll just—I guess if I use my bayard and shoot the panel, that should take care of the problem." He sent a worried look towards Keith. "Can you stay calm if I do that?"

It was by no means a perfect solution. For one, if this worked and the space glass disappeared, they'd have to repair the entire mechanism before they could put Keith back in the cell. But, maybe, that was exactly what they all needed. Keith needed medical attention anyway, and he seemed calm enough that he wouldn't attack anyone. That way, Lance could prove to the rest of the team that Keith wasn't as dangerous or out of control as they all thought.

Keith took a step away from Lance and the panel. "Do it," he murmured, thin and breathy but determined.

Lance nodded. Materialize his bayard, aim, shoot—he'd gone through the motions a thousand times and he did it as quickly as possible now. The panel sparked as it was hit, the space glass flickering for a few times before disappearing completely. Lance hurried to dematerialize his bayard again before looking over at Keith.

Keith looked worse than just a moment ago, nerves and tension rolling off him in waves. His eyes were fixed on thin air as one hand hesitantly reached out to where the space glass had been before. When it touched nothing and moved on, Keith recoiled violently, clutching his hand back against his chest. Lance could hear Keith's breathing speed up, and quickly decided that he had to do something. They had come too far for Keith to panic now. With the space glass down, there was no going back.

Slowly, he stepped closer, one hand reaching out towards Keith. "Hey," he murmured, making an effort to sound as gentle and calming as humanly possible. "Keith."

Keith's eyes snapped over to him. The same terror that had been there when Lance had first approached his cell, when Keith had been banging against the space glass, was still there now.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" Lance asked cautiously, not moving any closer for the moment.

Maybe that had been his mistake last time—not asking. Pushing for more, thinking that it would help Keith, but instead causing Keith to feel threatened. Well, not this time. Lance knew that he fucked up sometimes, but he was definitely willing to learn from his mistakes.

A few seconds ticked by, slow as molasses. Then, hesitantly, Keith nodded.

Lance stepped closer just as Keith uncurled marginally, reaching one hand out towards Lance.

Carefully, almost reverently, Lance let his fingers brush against Keith's, only the material of his gloves between them. Keith flinched at the first contact, and Lance waited for a moment. When Keith nodded, Lance slowly moved closer.

Then, with a sudden rush, Keith was stumbling against him, clinging to him tightly as Lance wrapped his arms around him.

A whimper tore itself out of Keith's chest. Lance shushed him gently, rubbing his hands up and down Keith's back.

This close, he could feel the constant tremors running through Keith's frame, and it made him want to hold on even tighter, to never let go. To let Keith know that he was safe here, with Lance, that there was nothing to fear. That they could stay like this, with Keith's ear tickling Lance's temple and the metal collar digging into the armor over Lance's chest, forever.

But, unfortunately, that wasn't an option for them. Eventually, what might have been seconds or minutes or hours later, Keith shuffled back. Lance didn't dare hold on.

Keith didn't move far. He stayed close enough that Lance's arms were still wrapped around him, just a hand's length of distance between their faces.

There was a storm of emotions whirling over Keith's expression, too many, too different, and too intense for Lance to decipher what the most prominent among them was.

Keith swallowed and hesitantly placed his hands on Lance's chest, fingers pulled away at the same awkward angle as before in order to keep Keith's claws far away from touching Lance. Keith's palms made their way up to Lance's throat, one settling on his jaw, the other at the back of his neck. Lance felt his breath hitching.

There was something unreadable in Keith's eyes and Lance felt as if he was sinking inside them, pools of yellow growing larger and swallowing him up, but then he realized that it was just Keith moving in even closer.

"Lance," Keith whispered, close enough that Lance could feel the warm air brushing over his own lips. He was pretty sure that his heart had either stopped beating altogether or was going at twice its usual pace. He didn't really know which one was the case—and didn't at all care.

Keith was close, so, so close, and still coming closer—

For a moment, Lance was certain that Keith was going to kiss him.

Keith moved his hand away from back of Lance's head, leaning in even closer, their noses brushing, and—

There was a sharp, sudden pain against Lance's temple.

He was faintly aware of falling down, forward, against a warm chest. Then, everything faded to black.

 

*****

 

**{{{**

Keith woke up in a healing pod. Trip number five had a ridiculous reason then, fine. At least his one way of measuring the passage of time on the Galra ship wasn't leaving him hanging.

This time, waking up lacked the too-warm feeling that the Galra healing pods usually caused. It felt more like waking up in the Altean model. Maybe Keith was getting used to the Galra version?

Either way, that didn't matter now. If he was quick enough, he might manage his third attempt at an escape. The first time he had made it all the way down the hallway before he'd been blasted down, and then the other time the shock from the collar around his throat had taken him out.

But he couldn't just stop trying altogether.

Thus, he feigned falling forward, feeling two pairs of hands—unexpectedly warm, not like the cold metal of the drones, what was going on?—grabbing him. Despite his confusion, he immediately wrenched free and made a run for it. He felt oddly rested, almost as if they had left him in the pod long enough to fully heal.

"Keith! What are you doing?" Lance's panicked voice called.

Keith stumbled, falling down. What a stupid reason to fall, stupid, _stupid_ —

He clambered to his feet hastily, scanning the room around him—and felt his jaw drop.

This wasn't the Galra ship. This looked like the Castle of Lions.

No, no, this couldn't be. He couldn't fall for this just because it was the first thing he saw when he came out of the pod—

"Keith! Please calm down." That was Shiro's voice. Calm and reassuring, as always. Keith was almost getting sick of it.

"You can stop it!" he growled, clenching his fists and squeezing his eyes shut. "We've had this! I'm not falling for it again!"

"Please, calm down," Allura's voice repeated Shiro's instructions. Allura and Coran didn't appear in the illusions often.

"Oh my god, what did they _do_ to him?" Hunk's voice asked, sounding like he was about to cry. Or maybe he already was crying. There were lots of memories to choose from for that.

"We're going to find out." Pidge's voice. "We're going to find out and then we'll make them pay." Keith wasn't sure when he'd let Pidge's vicious streak slip.

"Keith, open your eyes, please?" Shiro's voice again. This was getting annoying. Was their new plan to make him surrender with the sheer quantity of their illusions?

Very gentle hands touched Keith's shoulders, one warm and human, the other cool metal. It didn't hurt. That was wrong, he'd had deep welts all over his back, from what he'd made out to be the Galra equivalent of a whip—but then he'd been in a healing pod, so maybe it was right?

Now that he tried to focus on what he was feeling, there was actually no pain at all. Even the heavy weight of the collar around his throat was gone.

That felt wrong.

"Keith, do you want to go to your room? We cleaned it up and put new sheets on your bed for you while you were in the pod," Shiro's voice suggested gently.

"Go away," Keith hissed, focusing on Rovik's competitive nature and all the ideas he had yet to test out to tell the different masked aliens apart. He wouldn't give them any more information about his team.

They couldn't keep this up for more than an hour, maybe two. They never had before.

 

*

 

A whole day later, spent entirely by hiding out in a very convincing mirage of his own room, Keith's resolve not to believe that any of this was real was cracking.

Everyone dropped by his door from time to time, bringing him food goo and water, and talking to him through the door. Keith's bed felt like heaven.

He refused to believe any of it.

**}}}**

 

*****

 

When Lance woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his head hurt. A _lot_. 

The second thing he noticed was that he was currently being set down on the cold, hard ground. That was probably what had woken him up.

Woken him up from—wait. _Wait_.

 _Keith had knocked him out_.

That shouldn't have happened. Something was very, very wrong. He needed to find out what was going on, right now immediately.

With that thought in mind, Lance forced himself to open his eyes and push himself up into sitting.

The room was spinning around him and his head still hurt like hell, so that was bad. But on the bright side, judging by the white walls and blue lights he was still on the Castle ship. And that over there was—

Keith.

Standing in front of Red. So, they were in the hangar of the Red Lion. Why would Keith take him here?

It took a few moments for Lance's mind to take in the rest of his surroundings, to become aware of the quiet, distraught voice echoing in the large room—Keith's voice.

"—can't do this to me. Red, open up! I don't have time for this, at least let him—"

Before Lance could wonder why Keith was talking so much all of a sudden, Keith was quiet again. Instead, the sound of his scratchy voice was replaced by the 'swish' of an opening door.

Keith's gaze snapped to the entrance of the hangar, over to Lance, then back to the door. His whole body shivered, eyes wide with—fear, maybe? Worry? Lance didn't know for sure.

He barely knew how to feel himself, still a little woozy. Keith shouldn't be here. It was Lance who had let Keith out of his cell, and promptly gotten knocked out. Lance could admit that this wasn't his proudest moment. Whoever was coming through that door—he could already see himself getting a lecture.

He just hoped the others wouldn't try to make Keith out as the bad guy in this.

Sure, something shady was definitely going on—but Keith had looked terrified back in his cell, and apart from knocking Lance out, he hadn't hurt him. Obviously he wasn't as dangerous as some people believed. That had to count for something, right?

With those very reasonable arguments in mind, Lance was fully prepared to make his case. Still, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Shiro who had found them, now entering the hangar with quick steps.

Shiro would be reasonable about this. Shiro cared about and trusted Keith, probably even more than Lance did.

"Hey. So I know this looks a little suspicious," Lance began, giving Shiro his best crooked smile and hoping for the best.

With an unreadable expression, Shiro headed towards them. More specifically, it looked like he was headed straight for Lance and was going to walk right past Keith and the Red Lion.

That was odd, Lance thought to himself. Why would Shiro just ignore Keith standing there, when Keith was obviously not supposed to be here at all?

Keith didn't move or say anything, just stared at Shiro with wide eyes. The second Shiro walked past him, something snapped.

Keith took a sudden step forward, claws flexed, a growl rising from his throat. But instead of attacking Shiro, he fell to his knees on the next step, his angry snarl rising into a sharp howl that hurt Lance's ears. Curled up on the floor, Keith's hands rose to tear at the collar around his throat, which seemed to be sparking all of a sudden. Small bursts of electricity were rising from the metal, an uncanny pitch-black color.

"Keith!" Lance called out, feeling panic rising up in him.

What was going on? Nothing made sense anymore. Keith was in pain, Shiro was just walking on and completely ignoring it, and Lance—Lance didn't know what to do. All he knew was that something was wrong. Something was even more wrong than before. Certain things were _not_ supposed to happen. Things like Keith's collar activating, Keith tricking him to get out of the cell, or Shiro ignoring Keith writhing on the ground in pain. None of it should ever take place in reality, and yet here they were.

Keith's desperate clawing at the collar explained the bloody scratches Lance had seen at his throat before, but still it didn't make sense. The collar shouldn't activate on the Castle. There was no one around to activate it, Keith was safe here. Unless—

Things fell into place with a sudden clarity, seemingly unrelated events beginning to form a picture.

The breached hull when the Galra had attacked. Keith panicking when Lance came by, suddenly unsure once again if Lance was real. Keith's behavior in general being completely different from all the weeks before.

Someone had entered the Castle ship. Someone with control over the collar around Keith's throat, someone working for Zarkon—someone was here.

In the few seconds it took Lance to connect everything, Shiro had arrived in front of him. Lance opened his mouth—he had to warn the others that the Galra were here, he had to do something—when suddenly, he was looking up the muzzle of a blaster gun.

Lance's mouth, open as it was, went dry.

"Shiro?" he asked, his voice cracking halfway through. His gaze flickered over to Keith, who was still curled up on the ground, hissing in pain.

Shiro had just pulled a blaster gun on him out of thin air. That was what Lance's eyes were seeing, what his brain was telling him, and still he couldn't believe it. Nothing made sense anymore.

In front of him, the image of Shiro rippled, slowly fading away. A moment later, there was no longer the black paladin in front of Lance, but instead a Galra drone, holding the gun to his head.

In a way, it was almost relieving. At least this was less bizarre than Shiro pulling a weapon on him from nowhere.

Lance took a shuddering breath. He didn't know what was going on, but he had to calm down and _do something_. He knew that much.

The blaster gun right in front of his head, powered up as it was, was a very clear message that he shouldn't move. As much as he wanted to grab his bayard, form his own gun and shoot the damn drone down, that would have to wait for now.

He needed time. He had to make a plan. And, for that, he had to find out what exactly was going on right now. Once that was done, he could try to work his way out of this unfortunate situation and help Keith. At the very least he had to make sure Keith wasn't taken down by the collar any more.

As if answering Lance's thoughts, Keith's pained voice quieted down. A quick glance over assured Lance that Keith was still lying on the ground, twitching, but alive by the looks of it.

So far, so good. With the two of them against one drone, they should be able to fight their way out of this.

Just then, more movement at the hangar door drew Lance's gaze further up.

Eyes going wide, he stopped breathing for a moment. His blood ran cold.

As nice as his plans for escaping this situation had been, he could definitely forget about them now. A whole group of people was entering the hangar, and with every face he saw, Lance's courage sunk further.

Two drones marched in, followed by a Galra with long white hair and a hood—Haggar, if Lance's memory wasn't leaving him in this sudden bout of panic. Then another Galra with a scar on his chin. Lance recognized this one, too. Keith had called him Rovik in the memories Lance had gotten sucked into. Then another two drones, and after them—Coran. A very contrite looking Coran, held at gunpoint by a fifth drone, much like Lance himself was being threatened.

This was not good.

This was, in fact, very, very bad.

Now two out of the three of them were being held at gunpoint, making it all but impossible to fight back without risking his or Coran's life. In addition to that, there was no telling how Keith would react. Lance's trip into Keith's memories had been short, but he was well aware of the terror Keith had felt when remembering Rovik, of the _pain_ that Galra had inflicted—

Keith scrambled to his feet, and Lance noticed with worry how Keith's legs weren't looking all that steady beneath him, how the growl rising from Keith's chest lacked its usual ferocity.

"There you are," Haggar spoke up, her scratchy voice making Lance's skin crawl. An unbidden shiver ran down his spine. Why did she sound so pleased?

He dared to lean forward a bit, not really sure what he was trying to accomplish with Keith several yards away from him. He just couldn't stand the thought of watching Keith's worst memories walk into the room, while doing nothing. Not that there was anything he could do to help. Even the small movement had the drone pressing its gun more firmly against Lance's head, the threat clear.

No moving to help Keith, unless he wanted to die.

He'd have to come up with something else then.

Unlike the fake Shiro, Haggar headed straight for Keith. Keith's growling grew louder for just a moment, before Haggar raised her hand, the simple movement enough to silence him.

"Don't complain now," she sneered, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. Keith was eerily silent as she stopped in front of him.

The rest of Haggar's entourage followed after her, the drones forming a line between the Red Lion and Keith, blaster guns in hand but not raised to attack. Rovik took post right behind Haggar, while the drone aiming its gun at Coran maneuvered him forward, until the Altean was kneeling down on the ground next to Lance.

Coran sent a frown Lance's way, eyebrows raised in question, but Lance could only shrug in response. With both of them having guns to their heads, there wasn't much he could do at the moment. Not to mention that he still had no idea what was going on.

All he knew was that they were in deep trouble, and that Keith didn't look good. His yellow eyes were wide, chest rising and sinking rapidly, and the rest of his body entirely unmoving, except for the trembling tips of his ears.

"You wanted to see these people again, you've had your fun," Haggar went on, "but enough is enough. It's time for you to come back."

Keith's growl was heard for a second, but once again it quickly cut off when the sparks rose from the collar around his throat.

Seemed like Coran and Lance weren't the only ones threatened to stay in place.

Haggar clicked her teeth unhappily. "Still haven't learnt? We shouldn't have let you out of our sights for so long."

Keith didn't growl this time, but he did bare his teeth, lips quivering.

Lance didn't even want to imagine what was going on inside of Keith's mind right now. The way Haggar was talking, it sounded like they were here to take Keith with them.

And that made no sense at all. Sure, they were enemies of the Galra, and maybe Zarkon's evil underlings had had their fun torturing Keith for information on them. But that was no reason to go after Keith now. Shouldn't Haggar be here to take out their whole team? Not that Lance wanted her to, of course, and not that the Galra would succeed. But still.

What was up with this weird focus on Keith?

Before Lance could get any more hung up on the question, a quiet sound startled him out of his thoughts.

An innocent 'swish'.

His gaze immediately snapped towards the door. With how worried he was about the overall situation, he half expected even more Galra to show up.

Luckily, he was wrong.

The open door revealed Shiro—the real one this time? Hopefully?—as well as Allura and Matt.

Someone had equipped Matt with a blaster gun. Allura had her staff at the ready, and Shiro's hand was glowing, powered up already. The three of them spilled into the room, ready to fight, but they didn't get far.

"Move any closer and those two," Haggar gestured towards Lance and Coran, "will die."

Lance swallowed, and sent the team his best embarrassed smile.

As glad as he was to see his friends, they were in a pinch. There wasn't much they could to while he and Coran were being threatened. And with Hunk still in the pod, that left only Pidge unaccounted for.

Hopefully she would show up soon and get them all out of this mess.

"Haggar," Shiro growled, fury in his eyes as he glared at her. Lance vaguely remembered hearing that Haggar had been involved in what had happened to Shiro while he'd been prisoner of the Galra. But if Shiro was still haunted by that, looking at her now, he was hiding it well beneath his anger.

"What do you want here?" Allura asked, voice hard as stone.

An unsettling smile spread over Haggar's lips. "Actually, we were waiting for you," she replied smoothly, thoroughly confusing Lance and probably everyone else. "One of you is still missing,"—she knew about Pidge? About Hunk being in the pod, unable to show up? Or did she guess the right number by sheer coincidence? How could she _know_?—"But I have waited long enough. As have you. I'm sure that by now all of you want to know wh—"

"Stop," a hoarse voice cut Haggar off mid-sentence.

Lance blinked in confusion, then slowly looked towards the person who had spoken up.

He hadn't expected Keith to talk.

He wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was because in the past few weeks Keith used to be quiet and shut down when things upset him, or snarl with anger, but not speak. Or maybe it was because Keith looked so intimidated, so afraid, so _terrified_ right now, despite trying to hide it.

Maybe Lance should have seen it coming anyway, that Keith would surprise him. After all a lot of completely unexpected things had happened over the last few minutes. But—no, no, something was still wrong. Something had been inexplicably off ever since the Galra had found and attacked them. Or maybe since even earlier than that—since Matt had first seen Keith, and everything had begun crashing down around them.

Now, everyone was staring at Keith, who was looking at Haggar, something pleading in his eyes. "Don't—" he choked out, but to no avail.

"Oh no." Haggar's lips curled into a satisfied but mean-spirited smirk, her yellow eyes narrowing.

Keith's expression fell, ears sinking down. A quiet look of devastation. Lance hardly dared to breathe.

"They will know what you did."

 

*****

 

**{{{**

On the third day, Lance was sitting outside his door, talking.

"You know, if—if I'm going to be completely honest with you," Lance's voice mumbled, "I _do_ remember the thing after the fight with Sendak. The—you know. The whole 'you cradling me in your arms' thing."

Keith curled up even more where he was sitting on his bed, the wall cold against his back. Almost the same way it had been in his cell on the Galra ship.

He couldn't fall for the illusion. Couldn't give anything away, couldn't get his real team into trouble like that.

But—

But what if this was real?

What if this was actually not an illusion? He'd been in this place, whatever it really was, for days now, and the illusions had never lasted longer than an hour. All his team mates had come by and talked to him, mentioning things that their illusion counter parts had never brought up, probably because the Galra didn't know about those.

Keith stared down at his hands, at the pale unblemished skin of his wrists where the cuffs hadn't even left behind a scar—the healing pod had erased everything. His body didn't hurt anywhere. There was no collar around his throat.

Everything since this latest rescue had been different from the previous times, different from the illusions.

It—it might actually be real.

"And I just didn't want to say anything," Lance's voice went on outside, a bit muffled through the door but raw with emotion, "because there was something—you know, _something_ , after that, between us. Between you and me. And I acted as if I didn't remember it, because I thought I might lose you over it, over feeling this way. You're always so collected and cool and it hardly ever seems like you need us. But then we _really_ lost you, and now we got you back, but it's like you're still gone, and I just—I just want you to know. That there's _something_."

Lance's voice cracked on the last word. It kind of sounded as if he had started crying.

Keith didn't actually know if Lance was crying. Because Lance was on the other side of the door, and not just confined to what Keith thought Lance would do now, not restricted to Keith's expectations or hopes or fears, because Lance was—an actual person.

Real.

Fuck, Keith had always wanted _this_ to be real so badly. Lance confessing his feelings to him.

Keith's heart stuttered in his chest at the thought.

Lance had just confessed his—some sort of feelings. The real Lance.

This was real.

Keith had to—he had to answer. This was everything he had ever wanted, more than he had ever dared to hope for.

He got to his feet and slid open his door, feeling shaky on his legs. With an equally shaky voice, overwhelmed by the situation but willing to push forward anyway, too exhausted and too hopeful to filter his words anymore, Keith pressed out, "I may have—the biggest crush on you."

Lance's eyes, faintly red but not wet with tears, lit up.

They fell forward into each other's arms, like a couple in a cheesy romance movie. It felt so nice, so wonderful. Almost like a dream.

Keith never wanted to let go.

**}}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


End file.
